Sloppy Seconds
by Leslie N
Summary: 10. Vague spoilers for recent episodes. Bonnie emerges from an encounter with Katherine almost unscarred, and soon finds that Damon's joined her in the spurned loves club.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to LJ Smith and respective copyright holders._

* * *

Oh, Bonnie Bennet has kissed boys before. Tall boys, short boys, cute boys, fat boys. Boys with boozy breath and clammy hands. Boys who've kissed everyone, who know exactly what to do. But Bonnie's never kissed men like Damon Salvatore. He kisses to kill. He kisses to steal hearts, to befuddle minds.

And the worse thing is, he doesn't care.

Bonnie will never tell her best friend Elena Gilbert that she once kissed Damon Salvatore. Just once, in the very beginning, back when Damon dated Caroline. Back when Bonnie didn't know what Damon was.

She remembers the light press of his lips, the cool seduction of his eyes. After that first kiss, Bonnie said, "No."

He had smiled in response, flashing white, white teeth. "I'll be _very_ good," he promised.

There was something about his eyes. She still remembers his eyes and their strange blue-green intensity. She'd never seen eyes like that before.

"No." The second time around, shaky.

"You don't mean it."

"I do." She stepped away from him, just to prove it.

His eyes flared bright – not with displeasure, not quite with anger. Perhaps, impatience. Even back then, Bonnie's gut had told her to run far, far away. And she did. And she had been right to do so. Damon Salvatore only wanted one thing that night. Blood.

Bonnie's blood. Not that the 'Bonnie' part mattered. Anyone else could have been a substitute.

Secretly, when Bonnie found out Damon Salvatore was a vampire, she was disappointed.

(_Bonnie never wanted Damon Salvatore at all)_

* * *

SLOPPY SECONDS

1

* * *

Lately, it's like everyone is competing the 'Worst Friend' competition. Bonnie is coming first. Nothing can quite top certain murder. Caroline's coming last, and she doesn't even know it.

"You and Elena need to talk." Caroline frowns down at her half-painted nails. Stray French tips are scattered on her dressing table. "Me and Elena need to talk, too. We both need to talk to Elena, period."

"That's not a great idea." Bonnie takes a deep breath of nail polish fumes and wonders if ethyl acetate can scramble minds. She'd like a quick fix guilt-removing high now, thank you.

"So you're going to let this super bad thing you've done, this super bad thing you won't give me the details of… just play out? Bad idea, Bonnie."

"It might be better that way." Bonnie's trying to convince herself. Maybe Elena's mom won't even use the device in Mystic Falls. After all, who knows how many vampires lurk around the world?

Then again, who wouldn't want to kill Damon Salvatore? Somehow, Bonnie highly doubts anyone would be wanting to kill Stefan. Stefan, who wears his heart his sleeve, who looks at Elena like she's the sun the world revolves around. He truly loves Elena, and Elena loves him. It's a pity that destroying all the tomb vampires means destroying Stefan too. But then sometimes, Bonnie thinks Elena's better off without either brother. These days, the Salvatores seem to come in twos.

Bonnie picks up the bottle of strawberry scented nail-polish remover from Caroline's bedside table and considers drinking it. End everything now. She's such a crap friend.

"I know that look in your eyes, Bonnie Bennett." Caroline snatches the bottle from Bonnie's grasp. "And I think I know how to fix it."

Bonnie blinks. "You do?"

The blonde haired girl smiles cattily. "Of course I do. I mean, think about it. What is the difference between you, and me and Elena?"

Bonnie can think of many things…

"You don't have a boyfriend!" Caroline declares triumphantly, after brushing one last glossy coat of beige paint on her pinky. "Think! How long ago was it that you broke up with Raymond?"

A boyfriend. Yup. That's what Bonnie's totally been missing. With deceased relatives and deliberate betrayals… a boyfriend is the sure fire way to fix everything.

"I'm serious, Bonnie!" Caroline chirps when Bonnie doesn't answer. "You really need someone to talk to who isn't me."

"But you're brilliant!"

"I am brilliant," Caroline narrows her eyes at Bonnie's unsubtle side-tracking. "You know, a little TLC and romance goes a long way to make everything better. Or at least distract you, and give you some reason to groom yourself properly. When was the last time you've had a manicure before today?"

"Last week."

"Because I dragged you over here. I mean, do you even condition your hair these days?"

Bonnie self-consciously touches her dark head. It feels fine. Sure, it mightn't smell like Britney Spears perfume and sunshine, or cascade like a waterfall of silk, like certain people...

"Seriously, Caroline."

"We could go on double dates!" Caroline bubbles, already full of plans. "And it won't be horrendously awkward, like that one time we doubled with Elena and Stefan. Gosh, that was awkward."

In the face of Caroline's jubilant enthusiasm, Bonnie's at complete loss of how to respond.

Once she's completely sure her nail polish has dried, Caroline clasps Bonnie's hands. "Listen," she says. "You mightn't feel like it, but trust me, it helps. Not to boast or anything, but being there for Matt… I really made a difference."

"You and Matt really like each other." Bonnie stares at Caroline's hands. Caroline's fingers are perfectly French-manicured, she wanted a classy look for the Founder's Day parade. "I don't think I can find something like that so quickly."

"Think of it as a distraction then." Caroline's smile is sunny. "We'll find you someone really cute, with a really good body. That way, if he bores you, at least you'll have something…" She waggles her brows.

"Caroline!" But Bonnie's laughing.

"Oh, that's distracting too!"

Bonnie collapses on Caroline's bed. "You're terrible."

"Terribly brilliant you mean." Caroline beams. "Trust me, okay? I'll find you someone terrific. And we'll all have loads of fun together. With Elena. Everything's going to get better soon."

Caroline says this so earnestly; Bonnie can't help but have a frisson of hope. That tomorrow will bring a new day, that the weapon won't be used, and that perhaps maybe, Caroline will find someone so amazing that Bonnie will entirely forget about Damon Salvatore.

Maybe.

* * *

_A/N: After reading the Bonnie M and Damon short story by LJ Smith (that everyone should totally check out, by the way, so cute!) I was inspired to write this, in the TV-verse. This takes all the TV canon up to 'Isobel' (and maybe more, depending on how the Founder's Day episode goes...) and with one fantastical extension that Damon tried to bleed Bonnie at one point, very early on. It was completely memorable, of course, and despite everything Bonnie can't help but think back to it…_


	2. Chapter 2

_DISCLAIMER: The respective copyrights belong to LJ Smith and other relevant title holders. _

_WARNING: Spoilers to the recent finale episode, Founder's Day. [I decided to skip right to the end of the episode. So this is an 'aftermath' thing] _

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**2**

* * *

It's a twist Bonnie could have never foreseen, Damon's apology. Later, when Elena makes a run for the old Gilbert surgery, adamant to save Stefan, her love for Elena isn't the only thing that makes Bonnie change her mind. Though she truly does love Elena, and she knows Elena loves Stefan, and Damon is Stefan's brother. Bonnie knows the Salvatore brothers are bad news. Ever since they've arrived, Bonnie and Elena's friendship has been shot to hell. But Bonnie realises she _can't_. She can't let Damon Salvatore die.

Later, at home, Bonnie sits in front of her dresser. She stares at her reflection mindlessly, dissecting her own features. High cheekbones. Blemish-free dark skin. A mouth that slightly twists to one side, just like Grams. Grams wouldn't have approved tonight.

What else could she have done? Let the Salvatore brothers burn? Let her friendship with Elena completely die? She's been friends with Elena since childhood. Their memories together go beyond weekend sleepovers spent braiding each other's hair, horrendous makeovers, and double dates with dubious boys.

Will it always be like this now? Elena, getting sucked further and further into the vampire thing. Caroline… and Matt, chirpy and buzzing on the sidelines. _I'm going to find you someone terrific!_ Caroline had promised. Well, Caroline's got her work cut out for her.

Bonnie's phone rings. Rihanna. Breaking the Dishes. An oldie, but goodie. Bonnie checks the screen and sees Elena's number, debates whether to pick up. It's so late at night, and she can't imagine why Elena would be ringing her…

"Elena?"

"Bonnie." Even from the muted speaker of the phone, Elena's voice is shrill, panicky. "You have to come over. My father.... he's dying…"

"Elena, your father's dead."

"I don't mean him!" Elena's sobbing. "Bonnie, please come. His fingers, my God. His fingers."

It doesn't make sense, but Bonnie doesn't think anymore. Elena's her best friend, nothing else matters. "I'm coming over."

* * *

Elena's got blood all over her hands, all over her arm and clothes. Her 'father's' severed fingers, what's left of them, are chilled on ice. The front of his shirt is bloody. Bonnie sees gory entrails on the knife.

For someone who has just been disembowelled, Uncle John looks surprisingly healthy.

"Elena got me in the nick of time." John grimaces, still in pain. "That bitch, Katherine…"

"Katherine was here?"

"She was here." Elena's pale and pacing. "She chopped off his fingers, the ones with the ring. I slipped the ring on his other hand. Do you think you could reattach his fingers back? Obviously… we can't go to the hospital."

"Obviously." Katherine's back. John is Elena's father. It is information overload for Bonnie. She processes the most important point: reattach… fingers… okay.

"Will you be able to do it?"

Bonnie nods. "I think so. Performing the spell earlier weakened me, but I should be able to manage."

Elena smiles weakly. "Stay over tonight after this?"

Well, that's one way to initiate a sleepover. Bonnie smiles back timidly. "Sure."

After swallowing a glass of orange juice with extra sugar added for energy, Bonnie gingerly retrieves John's fingers from the ice bath and places it to the stumps of his hands. "This will hurt," she warns him.

"Try not to scream." Elena adds, "I think Aunt Jenna's sleeping. Do you need me here, Bonnie? I need to check up on Jer."

"Go." Bonnie waves her away. "I've got this. Go see Jer."

As Elena pads up the staircase, Bonnie starts up the healing incantation, murmuring the Latin invocations. The power inside her builds. It's slower now, more sluggish, weakened from the earlier use. Her heartbeat slows as her energy flows into John. She feels the tissue reconnecting, the blood vessels pumping. His. Hers. John's other hand, which she's holding, tightens from the pain.

It's not quite done yet. More power. More energy. Bonnie feels her magic levels starting to wane. But she's not in the danger zone, using the dregs of her energy stores yet. It's still okay. And he's Elena's father. Though how, Bonnie can't understand. Incessantly murmuring the healing incantation, a warmth washes over Bonnie as the beat of the pulse strengthens. John's. It's definitely John's, and it comes from his injured hand.

With the spell complete, Bonnie lets go, smiling. "It's done," she says to him, "You best get some rest."

Oddly, John doesn't smile back, not even a little.

And then Bonnie turns around, to see Elena, looking as white as a ghost. Bonnie knows something terrible has happened. She's almost too afraid to ask; "Elena, what's wrong?"

"I called 911." Elena's voice is flat, deadened from over-exertion. "We need to clean the kitchen up. We don't want the paramedics to see this bloody mess."

"Elena…"

Elena's face crumples. Bonnie hugs her, letting Elena bury her face in her shoulder. "It's going to be okay," Bonnie says. She doesn't know if that's true.

"Bonnie," Elena's whole body trembles. Her tears drench Bonnie's shirt front. "Bonnie, it's Jer. He tried to kill himself. It might be too late to save him."

* * *

A call comes to the Gilbert household, minutes later. It is Matt, Caroline's in the hospital. Bonnie doesn't think the night can get any worse. It surely can't get any worse. There's no place beyond rock bottom, right?

Not true.

Once in the hospital, things impossibly get grimmer. Tyler's father is dead. Caroline's in concussion. Bonnie and Elena manage to duck in and out of Caroline's room, before rushing off to the emergency ward. But then, when the Salvatores arrive, things somehow become even weirder. Not so much Stefan and Elena, who draw together like moths to flame. Stefan cradles Elena's face, murmuring low. Elena buries herself into him, wordless from grief.

There's something up with Damon. He stares at Stefan and Elena, a scowl on his face. Bonnie noticed that Elena doesn't look at Damon, not even once.

Oh, okay. Elena does now. A weak smile, a congenial nod.

Damon glowers.

Bonnie narrows her eyes. No flirty looks? No sly smiles? How uncharacteristic of him.

Odder still, Aunt Jenna looks and Damon and Elena with a peculiar gravity in her eyes. And the fact is made more peculiar, considering Jeremy's in the emergency department. The doctor had had a hushed conversation with Elena before, talking about how they're trying to purge the pills from Jeremy's body. Bonnie understands the hospital jargon to mean induced vomiting.

"The situation is unstable," the doctor had said.

Well… it can't be more unstable than the one in the waiting room.

After twenty minutes of uncomfortable silence, the doctor comes out again. "I need to talk to Jeremy's relatives."

Elena detaches herself from Stefan. Jenna steps forward. The doctor takes them inside the nearby room.

Bonnie, alone with the Salvatore brothers (John had chosen to stay home to recover), reconciles herself to awkward silence. There's nothing she can say. After all, she tried to kill Damon only hours ago, and then she threatened to Stefan that she'd kill Damon again, not long after.

Elena comes out. Reattaches herself to Stefan. "They're putting him in psychiatric hold." Her voice is husky, hoarse. "He's refusing to cooperate."

"He wants to die?" The shocked question spills from Bonnie's mouth.

"I think he's ingested some of Anna's blood," Elena whispers. The 'he's trying to turn into a vampire' part remains unspoken.

Stefan embraces Elena harder. Damon looks on the verge of exploding. And he does, merely seconds later.

"Why are you being like this?" he snarls to Elena.

Elena is bewildered. "Like what?"

"Like it didn't happen!" His grey-blue eyes are heated, his fists are clenched. "Are you going to deny it?"

Elena's holding onto Stefan like a lifeline. As if clutching him will make Damon's anger go away. "Damon, I don't know what you're talking about."

"She's got a lot of things on her mind right now," Stefan says warningly.

Damon's smirk returns, full force. Malevolent, brutally cunning. "You can hold her all you want, but tonight, she chose me."

A tingling, warning feeling trembles up from Bonnie's toes. Elena's still confused. She braces herself against Stefan. "Damon, what are you saying?"

"You kissed me," he says fiercely. "And you loved it."

"It's true. I saw it." Bonnie has no idea how long Jenna's been listening to their conversation. Jenna leans against the door, arms folded. "Elena, what were you thinking?"

Elena backs up against Stefan. She locks eyes with Bonnie, sharing understanding. "Oh no."

Katherine. Kissed Damon. Or visa versa. Probably both. Probably mutual kissing. With lots of tongue and groping. While Damon thought he was kissing Elena.

Stefan's jaw is clenched. Elena holds his hand tight, not letting go.

"Let's take this outside, okay?" Bonnie thinks on her feet. "Would you mind staying here?" she asks Jenna.

Jenna shrugs. "Go," she says. "Sort it out." She shoots Elena a disapproving glance as the younger girl walks past with Stefan. Elena visibly shrivels from the second-hand shame.

Bonnie forcibly takes Damon by the arm, walking him out. "You're despicable, you know. Even if it was Elena, you should have known better."

"It was Elena." His mouth twists bitterly. "Is it so hard to think that she chose me?"

Bonnie doesn't know how to respond to that. She shakes her head. "I'll let Elena explain."

Damon follows docilely for several steps. Right outside the hospital, however, he freezes. "You're saying it wasn't Elena."

"It wasn't Elena."

He turns… wooden, for the lack of a better word. His green-grey eyes dull, and his mouth droops. "Katherine." The word hisses from his mouth.

Bonnie begins to nod.

Damon turns, and in the blink of an eye, slams his fist into the hospital's brick wall.

* * *

_Thanks for the reviews. :) They're greatly appreciated. Any comments and suggests will be taken with hearts and love. The short story is 'Bonnie and Damon: After Hours'. I think LJS has taken it down for some future publishing venture on her webpages, but links are available on the LJS wiki entry._

_Not to state the obvious, but the story will be AU from this point in, since I hope to be done and done by the time season two starts. How AWESOME was the finale? _


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to LJ Smith and respective copyright holders._

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**3**

* * *

The moment is too private. Bonnie's seeing Damon's heart break. She can't understand it, she doesn't want to understand it; she doesn't even know where to begin.

The night air is crisp and cool; the wind lightly stings her cheeks. She takes a numb step back, then another. Still, she's close enough to tell his fist is bleeding profusely. Little wonder, he did hit a brick wall. Momentarily, she wonders whether he's really hurt, considering his vampiric nature.

At the lack of anything else to do, Bonnie fumbles through her handbag for a package of tissues. She finds one squashed between the pages of her oft-neglected diary. Silently, she hands a square to Damon. He takes it and balls it in his bloody fist, still braced against the wall.

His head hangs low. Bonnie doesn't know where to look. Looking at him seems to pitying. Looking away feels awkward. Usually, when she finds herself in pickles like this, she asks herself: what would someone not Bonnie do in this circumstance? What would Elena do? But this time around, that strategy's hardly appropriate. The answer to the literal question is obvious: Elena's staying the hell away.

Bonnie leans against the wall herself. Hands him another tissue. Mentally practices a sympathetic attempt at conversation. Discards the attempt. All the while, Damon mopes. She's starting to miss his civilian-killing, cocky, frustratingly immoral persona. At least dealing with those situations, the gut-reaction is easy. She's familiar with loathing, grudging admiration, coldness, exasperation, but entirely unused to associating sympathy with Damon Salvatore.

He's supposed to be a monster.

She clears her throat. "I'm out of tissues."

"I'm fine."

"Really?"

"I'm fine." He forces out a shadow of his smarmy smirk, which slips into a convincing semblance of unfeeling. "I'm hungry."

Of course he is, after bleeding so much. It might be better to send him away, for now. "Would you like a lift home?"

He smiles, more confident now, as though completely recovered. "That's not what I mean." Somehow, he's suddenly right besides her, eyes glowing, lifting her chin with a cool finger. "Would you mind, Bonnie?"

His breath is cool against her neck. His touch is ice. He's solid, real, in front of her. She'd be lying if she admitted she hadn't imagined this before, following that first time. He is beautiful. His eyes are so black…

"No!" Bonnie pushes away, simultaneously scrambling back. She almost stumbles.

He stares at her, still smiling, almost amused, almost pitying. Her. As if the tables have flipped. They haven't.

_He doesn't want really want her…_

Bonnie can taste bitterness in her mouth. It's bile, most likely from the thought of kissing Damon. Because she's better than that. She's better than him. He kissed Katherine tonight, thinking it was Elena. And Elena was his brother's girlfriend, Bonnie's best friend. So is Caroline. Damon used her up and tossed her aside like trash. He also as good as killed Vicki Donovan.

Bonnie folds her arms, hugging herself tight. She raises her chin up, attempting a proud front she doesn't feel at all. "I don't want Elena's seconds." She speaks to be deliberately hurtful. To try hurt him the way his very suggestion hurt her. "Elena doesn't want you, and neither do I."

There's no satisfaction watching Damon's smile slip. Bonnie's knees almost buckle from fear of his retaliation. But he does nothing. Somehow, she manages to turn around and walk back into the hospital.

She leaves a text for Elena, something about Damon being stable; the exact message is hard to remember. Soon after, Bonnie finds herself in Caroline's room, watching the lines pass on the heart rate monitor.

The room is otherwise empty. The lights are dim, the lights closed. It's just Bonnie and a comatose Caroline. Caroline looks so vulnerable and pale, with the white hospital sheets pulled up to her neck.

Bonnie slumps on the floor, rests her head against the bed, fervently wishing for something… something she can't quite identify. She wants someone to talk to, but Caroline's in no shape to respond. And Elena…

Wetness trickles down Bonnie's cheeks. She fiercely scrubs her eyes, thinking to herself that she can't be crying. There's no reason to cry. It's shameful to cry, even if no one else can see her.

Tonight has stretched so long, and too many things have happened. She feels so overwhelmed, heavy, and the world around her seems tinted in shades of grey. Bonnie shuts her eyes, lulled by the rhythmic beeps of the monitor. She's so tired. It can't hurt to take a little nap for a few minutes before hitting the road.

Before sleep drags her down, she sees visions of grey-green eyes in the darkness.

_Surely, that was just a dream._

* * *

"I'm so glad to be home." Caroline is propped up by five Chantilly lace pillows and wrapped around a man-sized fluffy teddy bear wearing a shirt that says MATT. There may be still a bandage wrapped around her blonde head, and make up is off the menu for now, regardless, she's radiant and smiling. Twenty-five boxes of 'Get Well Soon' Godiva chocolates helped.

Once again, Caroline turns to the therapeutic powers of the mani-pedi. With Founder's Day done and dusted, she's eager to use fashionable vivid greens. Bonnie uses green too, because Caroline's enamoured with the thought of matching nails.

"It's very middle school," Bonnie observes, slicking on a second coat of polish.

Caroline grins. "I'm bed-bound, remember? No one will be able to tell."

"No one except everyone in the town that visits you." Bonnie's sitting amidst a veritable flower shop's worth of flowers. Caroline's bedside is surrounded with small bunches of daisies. Bonnie pushes away the heads of several particularly droopy peonies. "These are from Elena?"

"And Mr. Bump over there." Caroline gestures to some hidden corner. "She dropped by this morning, briefly. She was going to the hospital."

The card in Bonnie's hand is written in a loose, scrawling hand. A barely decipherable: 'Get well soon, all the best, the Gilberts'. It's Jenna's writing. The card reads 'Mystic Falls Hospital Florist'. Mr. Bump was likely an acquisition from the hospital too. Elena's spending all her time in the hospital lately, staying by Jeremy's side.

"Is he any better?" Bonnie ventures, though she'd already asked Elena yesterday.

"They're not releasing him." Caroline shakes her head, "That alone says enough."

From what little Bonnie gleaned from Elena, Jeremy was very much human and bitter about it. Despite all efforts from Stefan, Jenna and Elena, he remained stoic, unreachable and depressed. He was angry that Elena interrupted his transformation process. He was angry at everyone else because they stopped his death.

Elena wants Jeremy home. The hospital isn't safe, in the light that Katherine is in Mystic Falls. Yesterday, Bonnie charmed the whole Gilbert house, in an attempt to mimic the magical force that prevented uninvited vampires from entering the house. However, the spell effectively prevented any vampire from entering the house. Damon and Stefan included.

Stefan had been very understanding about it, Damon, not so much.

Ever since Bonnie's 'sloppy seconds' comment, Damon has been ignoring her. Except for those times where snarky commentary is called for. Then, Damon is all ears and mouthy.

Bonnie's come to understand Elena and Stefan's method of combating the Katherine kiss is to pretend it never happened.

Shaking away the thought, Bonnie asks, "How is Matt?"

The subject makes Caroline perkier, if possible. "He's brilliant," she gushes. "My knight in shining armour at my time of need. He makes soup for me in the evenings. He brings me wildflowers every day. He's been so amazing…" She sinks into the Matt teddy bear, smiling blissfully. "I could have never imagined."

So, the mass of daisies tied with pink ribbons by Caroline's bedside aren't from the Mystic Falls Elementary first grade class after all. Bonnie blinks, a little moved. There's so _many_. "That's really sweet."

"He works a lot these days, to support himself," Caroline continues. "And don't think I've forgotten about my promise to you, Bonnie."

"Promise about what?"

"About the boyfriend, of course!" Caroline pats the head of Matt-bear. "We're going to find someone as perfect for you as Matt is perfect for me! And as Stefan is perfect for Elena!"

Bonnie sighs, "You're still on about that?"

"Well, of course! You can't be single while the rest of us aren't. We're going to get you hooked up, Bonnie. And we are going to do that… now. Pass me last year's yearbook will you?"

Said book preoccupies the prime real estate smack bang in the middle of Caroline's middle shelf. It sticks out, pages fluffy and well thumbed. Caroline opens it carefully with the pad of her fingers, turning to the photo section.

"Sophomores last year. We were so cute. I remember, you were dating Raymond, Elena was dating Matt, and I had a thing with Tyler." Caroline stops right at the 'L' page, at Tyler's photo: LOCKWOOD, Tyler.

"You were dating him!"

"That was definitely a fling." Caroline speaks with the snooty surety of someone now in a far better relationship. "Though he was really cute, really ripped, and he really knew his way around his parent's liquor cabinet."

Last year is vividly in Bonnie's mind, and a certain out-of-control celebration. "That's why you were so drunk at Tyler's party last year!"

"As if you weren't!" Caroline laughs at Bonnie's indignant shock.

"Not as much as you! You danced on top of their dining table! I thought Mrs Lockwood was going to have an apoplexy when she saw you!"

Caroline's in giggles, "I was banned from their house so long afterwards. Mom tried so hard to talk her around—"

"—She even baked!"

"She baked!" Caroline shook her head, utterly chagrined. "I still don't know how she managed to sweeten Mrs. Lockwood in the end, but it sure wasn't those pumpkin and date cookies."

The yearbook is still open to Tyler. Caroline's paused, a scheming expression on her face. Bonnie considered her with growing alarm. Plotting isn't Caroline's forte.

"Do you know what would be perfect?" There's a dangerously perky lilt to Caroline's tone.

"No."

"This." Caroline waves at Tyler's picture and sits up ramrod straight. "Not to be insensitive, Bon—"

"Bonding over dead relatives isn't romantic, Caroline. It's depressing."

"It worked for Stefan and Elena." Caroline says this without any bitterness at all. "Don't you remember that first night we all hung out? Her parents died, his parents died… You could both comfort each other, talk it out, like they did."

"Um," Bonnie clears her throat. "I have it on good authority they don't do that much talking."

Caroline takes the information in stride. "Well," she says matter-of-factly, "in a way that's even better."

Bonnie has to laugh wryly at that, shaking her head at Caroline's one-track point of view. "Well, given the fact he's kissed every other girl in town, I have to regretfully decline. I want to find a new boy."

"From where?" Caroline's incredulous.

"I don't know." Bonnie shrugs, "I just want to date someone that neither you and Elena have dated. I mean, you have good taste—"

"Great taste—"

"—Great taste, but I don't want…"

"Sloppy seconds?" Caroline sighs, her tone understanding. "I know. I felt that way too, at first, about Matt. Well, that and I was really worried that he still liked Elena. I mean, I still worry about that. I think he still does—"

"Caroline—"

"Anyway!" Caroline waves the point aside and smiles. "Sometimes, when you like someone enough, you really should go for it, sloppy seconds or not. Because when someone's right for you, you know. Even if there seems to be endless barriers in front of you, you know that it's worth fighting for."

"You knew about Matt?"

A painful honesty crosses Caroline's face. "I always knew about Matt. I crushed on him since the first time we met back in grade school. I knew him first, Bonnie, before Elena. He never saw me, you know, not until he finally realised Elena doesn't love him. Not in that way. And I do."

Which explains so much really, Bonnie thinks as Caroline's go-to perkiness resurfaces again. Never liking seriousness for long, Caroline dusts off an unopened box of chocolates and tackles the complicated packaging.

Caroline and Matt. Matt and Caroline. Before, Bonnie had never considered it, because Elena had firmly claimed Matt as hers. Back in sophomore year, she sometimes noticed Caroline not partcipating in Elena's gushing conversations. And in the picture taken from Elena's first date with Matt, where Caroline and Bonnie helped Elena get ready, Caroline's dress had been slinky and black, f_or mourning. _Bonnie understands now why the competiveness between Elena and Caroline ramped up that year, why things changed.

And now everything is changing again.

Caroline selects the biggest chocolate and hands it to Bonnie. "You will find someone, and he will be amazing. Sexier than Stefan. Probably not better than Matt."

Accepting the chocolate, Bonnie smiles, "Let's say that's the plan."

* * *

_And... the end. No, just kidding. Though honestly, I don't know where to take it from here... which calls for watching over season one again. Hard task! ;)_

_I've kind of melded the book and TV characters together (or at least, the versions of the TV and books that exist in my mind). I adore TV Caroline (because she resembles book Bonnie, one of my favourite characters), thus my theory on her TV and book selves is presented here. I was actually rewatching the earlier episdoes, thus the episode one references here. The pilot actually views better upon repeated watching. The earlier books too. I've read the later ones, but for some reason, my mind is resistant when it comes to remembering the details. Probably because of the overload of D/E, where I'm reading and thinking, 'No, what are you doing, Damon? How could you do this to your brother? And Elena... you love Stefan!' And... my thoughts turn into mush. This coming from a hardcore D/E fangirl. I totally shipped them when I was ten. _

_Anyway... thanks for the reviews! Wow, they doubled over the feedback on chapter one! It's greatly appreciated! _


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to L.J. Smith and all other relevant copyright holders_.

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**4**

* * *

"Remind me why we're doing this again?"

Elena has to shout over the pounding dance music, and even then, she repeats the question three times. Realising how ridiculous the situation is, Bonnie turns down the car stereo. "We couldn't refuse Caroline."

"We?"

"Fine. I. I couldn't refuse Caroline." Bonnie grips the steering wheel with white knuckled fists and attempts to smile. "She's recovered, and she's so excited about throwing the back-to-school party. It's nothing, having to drive down a dark, deserted road for another fifty miles. We'll be fine."

"If we don't turn deaf first," Elena says.

Loud as the music may be, Bonnie's barely processing the sound. The car doors are firmly locked, the windows rolled up tight. For no reason at all, Bonnie has the itchy feeling that something's about to go horribly wrong. Not that she wants to voice her fear aloud; she can't pinpoint why she's scared. It isn't the premonitory feeling she got when Tanner died; this is more a nervous tingle.

Elena sighs, tossing a glance behind her, at the load of tech equipment stacked in the back. They'd driven to the local college, to borrow deejay equipment from a friend of Caroline's. 'Friend' loosely translating to 'ex', a guy by the name of Justin who Caroline had a hotly intense fling with six months back. Matt wouldn't hear of Caroline going up upstate to visit Justin, but since she was desperate to cut costs for the party, she employed Bonnie and Elena as envoys.

"We should have brought Stefan along." Elena rests her head against the window.

But then Damon would have tagged along as well. He said as much this morning, while eying Elena the way a hungry cat eyes a mouse.

Him and Stefan being here right now? One word: awkward.

Bonnie cranks up the stereo. "We will be fine," she says firmly. "Forty-eight miles to go. It's less than an hour!"

She's glad the night's darkness hides her shaking hands.

As the car nears the Mystic Falls boundaries, the tingling bad feeling draws closer and closer. And it is ten miles to the border that Bonnie recognises what it is. Death. Not a life that directly touches hers. Not a fate she could have prevented. It won't be someone she's ever known before...

"Oh, my God. Bonnie, stop!"

_Until now. _

The moment the thought hits, Bonnie sees the body. Mere metres ahead, splayed on the dirt ground, bloody, even from the distance.

She slams the brakes.

* * *

"It isn't a vampire attack." Stefan surveys the body from the distance, his mouth drawn in a taut line. "Too much blood. No vampire would let that go to waste."

"Hungry, Stefan?" Damon leans against the nearby tree trunk, completely unaffected by the blood banquet. His cheeks are tinged pink, obviously he's already fed well tonight. "Go on right ahead. I won't judge."

His tone suggests that Elena certainly might. Stefan knows it. The line of Stefan's mouth tightens further.

Elena slumps against the hood of the car, arms hugged around her body tight. "It's definitely not Katherine? Or her minions?"

"No human has this kind of brute strength." Stefan's face is drawn in worried lines.

"What do we do?" Bonnie's tired, and her curfew is midnight, a mere hour away. She cuts to the chase. "Should we just leave it here?"

"And send the town up in arms?" Damon's voice is harsh. "No. We have to hide it."

"Like the excellent job you did with Vicki last time?" Bonnie can't resist the jibe.

Damon stiffens. Then, his eyes take on a dangerous gleam. He holds his hands up in an expression of surrender. "Well, thanks for volunteering to take my place, witch. Have fun and goodbye."

Bonnie suspects he really would have pulled a disappearing act there and then. But Stefan quickly lunges forward, holding Damon back. "Are you insane?"

"You're right," Damon says mock-thoughtfully. "She is incompetent. Or worse, she might frame us for his death, have us burned for sure, this time."

"I wouldn't do that to Stefan," Bonnie corrects sweetly. "Just you."

Elena hurriedly steps in the stop the escalating fight. "What is up with you two? Listen, Stefan and I will take care of the body."

Damon smirks, "Newsflash, Elena. Stefan can barely take care of himself. I, however—"

"We get it." Bonnie cuts in sharply, gagging at the thought of Damon pulling more sparkly-eyed nonsense on Elena. "You're the studliest, handsomest, bravest and bestest of them all. Seriously. I will do it. I can do this. The rest of you should just go home."

Whether it is a show of macho, or plain lack of conviction, Stefan, Damon and Elena stay firmly put.

"Erm, Bon. You haven't ever buried bodies before…" The end of Elena's sentence takes a squeak. "You haven't, right?"

Bonnie firms her chin and feigns careless bravado. "Of course not. But how hard can it be? Dig up ground. Plunk body in ground. Shovel back dirt to hide body. Cast a few spells to ward people off. I should be able to do all that… with no hands."

"And while you're doing that with no hands," Damon quips, "who knows what will leap out of the shadows and brutally murder you?"

"You're underestimating me."

"Yeah, I definitely underestimated your stupidity." Damon turns to Elena, dutiful, obliging, the picture of dazzling chivalry. "I'll go with her. You'll never forgive me if she dies."

Elena's smile in response is reluctant but bright. "That's right. You better protect her."

"We've spent enough time dawdling here." Stefan's quick to step possessively close to Elena. "We're lucky no other car has passed by." To Bonnie, "I've got some old sheets in the back of the car. You don't want anything leaking."

Leaking. At the very word, the very thought, nausea slams through Bonnie's body. She'd never paused to consider the disgusting practicality of hiding a corpse. Like wrapping up the body, shoving it in the back seat of her baby – the brand new Ford hatchback that she'd gotten for her seventeenth birthday.

Brave face. Brave face. Particularly since Damon's staring, probably thinking smug thoughts, waiting for her to chicken out.

Bonnie. Will. Never.

"Come on, expert." She strides to Stefan's convertible, Damon in tow. "Tell me where to start."

* * *

The moment Elena's gone, Damon's cheer and charm evaporates. The car ride to the nearby lake is tersely grim. Neither Bonnie nor Damon spare any words save the necessary: how to dispose of the body with most efficiency.

"Stop here," Damon orders.

Bonnie pulls the car to a stop. "We're walking from here?"

"Yes."

Who's going to carry the body? Bonnie's afraid to ask. Luckily, Damon silently assigns himself the task without further ado.

Bonnie locks up the car and pads after him, clenching bloody fists. She'd helped wrap up the body.

They walk. They walk, they walk a bit more. All the while, Bonnie checks her watch and silently groans. Her Dad won't be happy. No matter. The 'why can't you be more responsible and considerate' speech is inevitable. She's sure there's actually a quota parents must deliver to their kids before a certain age, and as a single parent, her father's adamant to meet alll the 'good parent' guidelines. Well, that's one down tonight… this morning.

Damon keeps walking.

Bonnie notices a liquid trail seeping from the seams of the 'package'. She opens her mouth to tell Damon, but seemingly, as though he's read her mind, he adjusts so the blood drips onto his shirt. Bonnie winces. That certainly deals with the problem, regardless of how palatable the act is. Now, she's pathetically grateful for Damon's presence. She certainly couldn't have levitated a dripping body for so long and bury it without turning into a corpse herself. Not that she'll ever express this gratitude out loud.

"What do you think about this spot?" Damon stops. He doesn't turn to face Bonnie.

'This spot' is hardly distinguished. Trees. Rotting leaves. Something large, lumpy and dark brown that Bonnie suspects to be a tower of animal excrement. "How far is it from the lake?"

"About two hundred feet." He gleans this piece of knowledge from merely sniffing the air.

"That should be far enough." Bonnie bites her lip. "Do you want me to start digging?"

He nods.

She closes her eyes, breathes deeply, and prepares to enter the spell by relaxing her body, tilting her head skywards, easing her breathing to become steady and even. Calm, her mind blank, she murmurs the incantation to move the ground below them.

The ground shakes. She pictures a hole gaping open, two feet away. The power shoves at the solid earth, forcing it to yield, to move upwards. It's hard at first, being surrounded by the latent power of the trees, urging them to cooperation. As she coaxes it, the barriers stopping the power flow slowly crumble away. She can feel the hole widening, deepening.

"That's more than adequate."

Snapping out of the spelling zone, Bonnie looks down to see a yawning pit. She can't see the bottom. Curiously, she throws down a rock. Counting the seconds until hearing the drop, it shocks her, figuring how deep she's dug. Several feet, More than ten.

"Is that too deep to be natural?"

He shrugs. "You think?"

"I'll spell again..."

"Don't tire yourself." He lowers the body to the ground. "You still have to use magic to cover the hole and burn the sheets."

She'd forgotten about burning the sheets. Of course, they can't leave it with the body. The body is placed in the pit. The cavity is half filled, and then the ashy remnants of the sheets mixes with the soil. Bonnie performs the incantation again, moving a few mounds of grass over the newly covered hole. Then she sets up various avoidance charms around the area to distract any possible passer bys: magical suggestions of _'There's leeches in this area'_, _'Is that deer over there_?' and, _'Ew, something stinks_.'

By the time she's finished, Bonnie's boneless. It's a struggle to stand upright, and she fights not to show it. So when Damon starts walking, she unquestioningly follows him. Too late, she realises he's walking towards the lake, not to the car.

"What are you doing?" she snaps.

"You want to go home looking like that? You won't be able to explain it."

"What else am I supposed to do?" She practically snarls with tiredness and frustration. She just wants to go home, not go for a scenic tour around the lake.

Scenic tour. Wait. What if he's trying to kill her? What if the scenic tour involves getting hog-tied and dumped at the bottom of the lake?

Her steps slow, "You know what? You go ahead and clean. I'll stay right here. I'll tell my parents I went mud wrestling, and it's a new in thing for teenagers. They'll buy it."

"Witch, you've got brains splattered in your collar. How does mud-wrestling explain that?"

Bonnie struggles with an explanation. Comes up with nothing. Right now, even standing is a taxing task. Despite all her best efforts, her stance sways a little. She grits her teeth, hating her inability to push herself a little more.

_Elena probably could_.

"I don't want to, alright?" She finally snaps. "You and I both know that the most dangerous thing out here is you. I don't trust you. I don't trust you right now, and I trust you even less around huge stretches of water."

He finally turns around, green-grey eyes vicious and mouth pulled to a sneer. "Don't flatter yourself. If it wasn't for Elena, I wouldn't even be here."

Bonnie's confused. Scared of getting murdered... she's flattering herself how?

Damon's confused about why she's confused… And then he gets it. "You think I want to kill you? Idiot. Like I'd bother to expend that kind of energy. This is all for Elena." He puts emphasis. "The whole good guy thing? I'd appreciate it if you dropped in a few words about me tomorrow, something like, _'He's so helpful, the way he disposed of that body was so manly…_'" Said in falsetto.

"Oh please," Bonnie mutters.

"… _And towards the end of the night_," he continues in a hugely inaccurate imitation of girly Bonnie gossiping to Elena, "I_ was dead on my feet, and he scooped me up, like a knight in shining armour_."

"I do not talk like that!" Bonnie begins irately. When Damon really does scoop her up, she's immediately breathless, winded with disbelief.

Suddenly, they're right by the lake's shore.

He sets her down, gently. "I'll be frank, Bonnie Bennett. You're Elena's best friend. I want you on my side, not Stefan's. I want you to believe I deserve Elena."

Bonnie feels shivery. Because of the chill night air. She presses her lips together, fixedly staring out at the lake, momentarily lost for anything to say. And then she finds it: her ability to speak. "You aren't a bad guy, Damon. You really aren't, and I know that, even if I mightn't act like that's so most of the time. But…" This part is hardest to speak, despite the fact it's the truth, because it is difficult to voice it aloud, without feeling bitter, sounding bitter, and wistful, particularly with the events recently transpired. "She's your brother's girlfriend. It will never be right."

He laughs. "So how do you justify lusting after your best friend's boyfriend?"

* * *

_Re-watching the episodes definitely helped! :) A lot of tVD comms are doing rewatches now (with the CW schedule), particularly on livejournal. Of course, there's the awesome damon_elena comm, nothing yet on damonandbonnie (yeah, I lurk there more than I should) and a teeny little post on stefanandelena that begs for more comments. _

_Thanks to all the reviewers on the last chapter! Hugely appreciated! And no, this fic will not be heading down the path of Bonnie and Stefan or Bonnie and Matt. I'm finding I'm covering a lot more on the struggles of Elena and Bonnie's friendship that I ever intended to. But it will get better between them... soon! _


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to L.J. Smith and all other relevant copyright holders_.

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**5**

* * *

Of course, Damon is talking about Stefan, Stefan and Elena. As if their love quadrangle isn't complicated enough already, with Elena loving Stefan, Stefan loving Elena, despite of her alikeness to Katherine, who Damon also loved, and Damon, who now likes Elena, though he may still love Katherine. Katherine, who he recently kissed thinking it was Elena…

Just thinking about it annoys Bonnie to no end. She scornfully turns up her nose. "Projecting much? I'm not lusting after anyone."

"Really?"

"I have morals," she snaps, "unlike you." Indignant and refusing to continue the conversation, she strides off to the water. She grits her teeth and barrels right in. The icy wet drenches, chilling her to the bone. Despite the cold, she dunks her head in, sinks deep, wishing that she could lose herself in the water.

Because she's not strictly telling the truth, though Stefan's the last person she'd ever lust after. The moment Elena became interested in him, Bonnie discarded all hope. No boy went for Bonnie Bennet when they could have Elena Gilbert. It's always been that way, and Bonnie's long accepted it.

Elena's the person that everyone falls in love with. Like a magnetic force, the world revolves around her, and no one can fight the pull. Caroline's the cute one, the show pony who forcibly grabs any attention that doesn't fall onto Elena. And Bonnie's the best friend, the constant, the in-between. She's the one who buys the litre-tubs of double chocolate fudge ice cream after break-ups. She's the one people look over to tell Elena (or Caroline), '_Don't you look be-yoo-ti-ful today!_'

Truly, Bonnie never really minded. She never thought it about that way, until Matt. Matt, whom Bonnie loved since that day in first grade when he gave her all his cold Tater tots after bullies stole her lunch. Matt only ever saw Bonnie as an extension of Elena. And Bonnie thought Matt would love Elena forever and ever (the hopeless romantic in Bonnie kind of liked that).

And then he hooked up with Caroline, around the time Grams died.

And Bonnie's world crumbled.

It wasn't just because of Matt. In a way, the possibility of Matt ever seeing her was never really real to begin with. But it hurt, that he saw Caroline, that Caroline was good enough in a way Bonnie never was. It hurt worse; that Caroline had Matt, and Elena had Stefan, and Bonnie not only had no one, but also merely half her friends' time. It hurt that she didn't know how to talk to them. It hurt that nothing really changed, despite that they had changed, so much.

Resuming old patterns of behaviour is weird. Ditzy boy talks with Caroline aren't the same when Caroline has a boyfriend. Spending time with Elena isn't the same either, since she now comes with the Salvatore brothers in tow.

Priorities. Bonnie has them. During her mourning period, she re-organised and compartmentalised her life entirely. With the time remaining before college, she will make the most of her existing relationships: her family, her best friends. Boys are replaceable. History is not. Memories are not. Most of all, she doesn't want to be a bitter person.

She resurfaces from the water, hoping the long dunk washed out all the gory bits. Damon mentioned something about brains and gore on her jacket. She shakes it out, just to be sure.

Damon already waits by the bank, dripping wet, not the slightest bit caring. "Let's go," he says, as if their previous conversation never took place. "I sense something in the woods."

Bonnie tenses, "Is it a vampire?"

"I can't tell." He walks briskly. "Vampires can't sense other vampires nearby, unless they're using their Powers."

Bonnie follows him, barely matching his pace. "So what are you sensing?"

"We're being watched."

"Are we in immediate danger?" she asks.

"No."

By the time they reach the car, Bonnie's exhausted. Adamantly fighting it, she rummages around her handbag, taking out an energy drink. First, she stumbles upon her phone. It has a message from Elena:

_Covered for you. You're at my house, because long night, too late to drive. See you at Stefan's? Will already be sleeping. Feel free to crash on their couch._

It's a bad idea. Bonnie knows this immediately, even without the kick of guarana and carbonated bubbles fizzing away on her tongue. After polishing off the energy drink, she's more convinced that crashing the Salvatore's is no way to go. She sneaks a look at Damon. He's brooding, staring off into this distance, less than thrilled to be here now. Enduring any more of his awkward silence is an unbearable thought. And approaching the possibility on another angle, Bonnie no way wants to third-wheel on Stefan and Elena's (very likely) morning after.

Her mind is made up. No Salvatore house. No way. She starts the car engine. "I'll drop you off," she says to Damon. "It's late. I'm heading home."

He doesn't respond. Probably doesn't care.

The ride back is silent. She stops outside his house. He gets off. He doesn't say goodbye. She leaves, driving down the bumpy track back to the main town. She thinks to park somewhere quiet and just sleep off the night. It's already two o'clock. There's four hours to dawn. Surely, four hours isn't that big a safety risk.

Somehow, she finds herself parking outside the Mystic Falls cemetery. Somehow, she's compelled to get out. She finds herself by Gram's grave, hands resting on the smooth granite headstone.

It's ridiculous to think that being in the graveyard at the dead of night is safe. But somehow, Bonnie feels protected. She senses the tingle of protective magic around the Bennet family plot. There are also wreaths of dried vervain hanging from Gram's headstone. She thinks to maybe borrow a wreath, take it back to her car and sleep there. Then, she closes her eyes, for a second. They feel so heavy…

The next time she opens her eyes, however, it is early morning. Barely an hour past dawn, the graveyard is full of mist and fog. Immediately, Bonnie feels cold. Her skin is raised in goose pimples. Her hair is slightly damp and wildly frizzy, standing at the ends.

And her jacket. It's missing. She was wearing it when she inadvertently fell asleep, but somehow now, it's gone. She races back to her car. It isn't there either. It really is gone.

As for her car, the front window is smashed in, and there's glass everywhere. Someone's gone through her handbag and pulled everything out. Funny, her wallet's still there. Her trunk has been opened and messed with too. She remembers neatening everything after hefting the corpse out, yesterday. Now, there are papers everywhere. The upholstery is ripped, as though someone tore it out with claws…

An animal attack. Immediately, Bonnie thinks vampire. Not claws, teeth. Teeth, tearing viciously through fabric and metal.

Maybe claws.

Or maybe a jackhammer.

Bonnie sinks to the ground. Rests her head against the fender. Forget vampires and improbable feats with teeth for now. How on earth can she explain this to her Dad?

* * *

"Let me get this straight." Elena's voice is calm and steady, but it echoes in the Salvatore garage, resonating grimness. "You spent last night in a graveyard."

"This morning," Bonnie corrects faintly.

"I covered for you, invited you to stay here… and you decided a graveyard was better."

Bonnie feels ridiculous… ridiculously justified, that is. "I didn't want to impose. It's not your house."

"Bonnie," Stefan says, "we wouldn't have minded."

"Well," Bonnie's got the beginnings of a horrible headache, and it's making her snappish. "Maybe I did."

"You're lucky this is your car!" Elena's voice is a whiplash. "My God, Bonnie. It could have been you!"

"I'm lucky I wasn't in my car," Bonnie sighs. Then the realisation hits her like a blow. "Wait, do you know what this means?"

Elena's lips are pressed in a white line, a telltale sign that she's barely holding onto an extremely rude comment.

"Grams protected me!" Bonnie's confused about how she feels about this, apart from excited. She's not happy, exactly, not in the joyous way. She's certainly grateful to be alive… "I was right at her grave. There was vervain, and magic—"

"Someone is coming by at ten to fix your car." Damon strolls in, interrupting Bonnie mid sentence. "I used my connections."

He's wearing a white shirt, completely unbuttoned. He has stubble. And chest hair. Bonnie badly wants to ask how vampires can have stubble and chest hair but she swallows down the question. Not appropriate for now. Not appropriate ever.

"Thank you for that," she says instead, awkwardly, staring at her hands. She refuses to goggle at his bare, manly chest.

"No problem." He surveys the wrecked car like it's an archaic wild beast. "Least I could do, since I scared you off last night."

He's back to being mocking.

"You didn't scare me off," Bonnie says stiffly. "I didn't want to third wheel."

"I see." Damon's smile is sly. "How terribly… moral of you."

So Damon still thinks she's lusting after Stefan, and in deep denial. This thought makes Bonnie rage. Forget Stefan. Damon's exactly the reason why she didn't want to stay here last night. Because she wouldn't have been able to restrain herself from killing him. After burying a corpse last night, she's almost expert at hiding bodies.

Throughout the rest of the day, Damon keeps giving her meaningful looks, which follow on from meaningful looks to Stefan, and flirty, sparkly-eyed flirtations at Elena. Somehow, Bonnie's now ingratiated into the whole Salvatore brother-and-Elena-and-Katherine love mess.

According to Damon, there's no other men or women in world apart from Stefan, Katherine and Elena.

Bonnie's infuriated by the time she goes back home. Seething with rage, she pulls into the driveway and stalks through the adjoining hallway to the kitchen. There's a note on the counter from her Dad:

_Hope you had a nice time at Elena's. Will be late tonight. See you at eight._

Bonnie's distantly grateful; she's not fit for human company right now.

Listlessly, she opens the cupboard. Picks out a package of soft tortillas, gets out granola and tomatoes from the fridge. It is kind of healthy food: mushy and blah to suit her mushy and blah, but somehow almost ready to tear someone's head off mood.

It is only after she closes the fridge door that all her senses flare up in alarm. Fear rapidly replaces anger. There's someone right behind her. She spins around.

It's Tyler Lockwood, who smiles. "Hello, Bonnie. I've been waiting for you."

He waves. But not with hands. He has sharp and bloodied claws.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter was harder to write than the last few, which is why it took longer. I'm quite happy with how it's turned out though. I was stuck with just five paragraphs for a week! _

_As always, thank you to everyone who reviews this story. You keep it afloat! Your feedback really encourages me to persevere on! Special thanks to **simone**, who pointed out Bonnie's parents are divorced. I didn't catch that, and have edited accordingly. _

_Also, since the D/B elements are going pretty slowly, I assure you, it definitely is a D/B fic. It's just a really slow burning one..._


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to LJ Smith and respective copyright holders._

* * *

SLOPPY SECONDS

6

* * *

Bonnie's mind blanks at the sight of Tyler's bloodied claws. She stumbles, gone for what to do, what to say. She's about to die.

Magic. She's a witch. She can do magic. But in her frantic search to recall something, anything that can possibly help her, she finds nothing. Nothing. She's going to die for sure.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings.

Tyler lunges forward. Bonnie screams and instinctively races to the door. Tyler rushes after her. She can feel him behind her. So close, too close. There's only a matter of metres to the door…

Her hand reaches for the knob. Thank goodness for automatic locks. One turn, the door swings open. To reveal Elena, who smiles sunnily, oblivious to the commotion inside, "Hi, Bonnie!"

"Elena!" Bonnie gasps. She turns her head to look back. Tyler's disappeared. "I'm so glad you're here! Tyler's inside. He had these… claws. I'm pretty sure he destroyed my car." Her poor car… "And killed that person yesterday."

"He's a werewolf," Elena says matter-of-factly. "No big deal. Come on, invite me in. We'll talk to him."

Bonnie swipes at her forehead. Her skin's clammy with sweat. "A talk." A frenetic, uncontrollable giggle escapes her lips. "You think him wanting to kill me can be solved with a talk."

Elena laughs. "Oh, Bonnie. You underestimate yourself. We definitely can talk this through. You are a witch after all. We can break it down for him. Explain to him what's happening, since he doesn't seem to understand. And most likely he doesn't. Leaving a body in the woods in sloppy."

Elena's tone is so reassuring. Bonnie's racing heart slows. She tentatively smiles back. "You're right," she says, turning. "Let's go find him."

"Bonnie," Elena's still standing outside.

"What are you waiting for? Come in!" Bonnie tugs Elena by the hand.

Elena steps through. "He must have heard us," she says. "Werewolves have good hearing."

"They would," Bonnie agrees.

Sure enough, rounding the corner, they find Tyler in the kitchen, slumped across the island, his head in his hands. Bonnie and Elena exchange looks, and sit down opposite him.

"Hey, Tyler." Bonnie speaks softly. "You heard everything we said, right?"

"Something about witches." He lifts his dark head, staring at Bonnie with bloodshot eyes. "That's why I couldn't touch you last night."

Gram's spell, Bonnie thinks, shivering. She nods, "Yes." She can barely hear herself. "That's why."

"At the cemetery yesterday, I could smell on you the scent of the man I killed." He shudders, "I would have killed you too."

"I don't doubt it." Bonnie squarely meets his eyes.

Tyler turns to consider Elena. His nostrils flare, "You smell different."

Elena doesn't blink. "New perfume," she responds placidly. "Do you like it, Bonnie?"

She smells like roses. "I guess," Bonnie says distractedly. Her attention is more riveted to the mess on the floor, what used to be granola and tomatoes. "Why are you here, anyway?" she asks, moving towards the broomstick to pick it up.

"You left your jacket." Elena holds up a bag with a smile. "Aren't you lucky I decided to come over here? You could be dead, or cold."

It's the jacket Bonnie wore to the graveyard last night that was already missing this morning. She frowns, "How did it end up at Stefan's?"

"It didn't," Elena responds easily. "I took it from you yesterday." She casts a long look at Tyler, and returns to Bonnie. "Your Grams' magic didn't save you last night, you know. I did, because I'm an excellent friend."

In one horrifying moment, Bonnie _knows_. It's Katherine. Bonnie recoils in horror. Katherine looks exactly like Elena, and she's got the mannerisms pat, down to the last crinkle of the eyes, the little flip of silky dark hair when she smiles.

"Careful," Katherine quickly beside her, lending a steady arm, "Tyler doesn't know."

"Tyler doesn't know what?" Tyler's confused.

"That I can be very scary when I'm crossed." Katherine's smile is pure sweetness, more sugary than Elena at her most cajoling. She turns to Bonnie, with the same beatific smile. "Let's pretend I was never here."

"You can't. I have vervain." Bonnie's shaking, unable to help herself; petrified, not knowing why Katherine's here, or what she wants.

"I meant him." Katherine says quietly. "I want you to remember. I saved your life. I can be a very good friend, Bonnie. Better than anyone you know."

_How does she know? _

"Liar." Bonnie's voice trembles.

Katherine comes close, speaking softly so only Bonnie can hear. "Don't let the Salvatore brothers know I was ever here. If you do, you will be sorry."

"A friend wouldn't make such threats."

Katherine smiles that dazzling smile again, "You have little experience in friendship, my dear."

"What if I say no?"

Katherine stands back up and whistles. Bonnie's eyes widen when her dog, Yangtze, comes trotting along.

"Cute dog," Katherine kneels back down and strokes the pug's head. The unsuspecting creature licks her hand. "She's well behaved. I bet you'll miss her, Bonnie."

"What the hell is going on?" Tyler cuts in, brusque. He must've cottoned on to the change in atmosphere.

Heavy dark lashes lower. Katherine's gaze towards Bonnie is coquettish, flirtatious. "He's so protective already. He's very good looking too. You know, I've practically given him to you."

"I can't be given," Tyler snaps.

Katherine whirls around. Suddenly, she's holding his face in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. At this moment, she looks nothing like Elena. Elena's prettiness is like spun sugar, but Katherine's beauty is spun from steel, sharpened to a wicked, serrated edge. "You won't remember me, just Bonnie. You trust Bonnie. Bonnie's here to help you."

Now, she sounds nothing like Elena. Bonnie can't believe she ever made the mistake.

"What do you want from me?" demands Bonnie.

"Nothing much," Katherine says breezily, dropping Tyler's unconscious body on the floor. "I just like befriending witches. I was very good friends with your great, great… to nth degree… grandmother, Emily. She was an impressive woman. A powerful witch."

"I won't do anything for you."

"I'm not asking you to." She steps over Tyler's fallen body delicately, "Yet. The only thing I ask of you is to keep our newfound acquaintance a secret. No taxing task. Speak of this encounter to nobody. If you tell, I will know."

Bonnie sets her jaw. "I won't let you hurt Elena, or any of my friends and family."

Katherine's guileless expression shutters. "Do you think they would do the same for you?"

"Yes." Bonnie's response is automatic.

"Truly?" One magnificently groomed brow raises, "I've followed you for a good many days, Bonnie. You feel very lonely."

Bonnie firms her shoulders. "You've only seen the surface. You have no idea how great my friends are."

Katherine's lips quirk, "I know you doubt them."

She's really been following Bonnie closely. The thought's creepy. "Everyone doubts everyone, sometimes."

"Everyone fails everyone sometimes, too," says Katherine.

"Which is why we won't be friends," Bonnie responds tartly. "You dole harsher punishment than most, for failing."

Those quirked lips widen to a full out grin. "You are quick-witted," Katherine's delighted. "I believe I like you already. We will meet again soon, Bonnie Bennet. Your Tyler is waking, and I must go. Remember my warning."

With that said, Katherine disappears out the door, leaving a lingering scent of roses.

Bonnie stares down to the floor, to a crumpled Tyler.

Katherine's right. She really has delivered Tyler, sealed and packaged, seemingly the perfect solution to all Bonnie's problems.

Seemingly.

Bonnie could certainly appreciate Tyler's toned physique and clean-cut features, his expensive European brand-name clothes and familial connections. Play the cards right, Bonnie could position herself as Tyler's saviour. Swoop in, win Tyler's trust (and heart) forever…

The problem though, is that she doesn't want him.

But she definitely could use a friend right now, and so could he.

Tiredly, she cleans up her dinner from the floor, puts the remainder in the bin. She takes out steak from the freezer and defrosts it on the counter. For herself, she thaws frozen bread in the microwave, toasts it with peanut butter and jelly.

By the time she's onto her seconds, Tyler's up. She points to the bloody steak on the counter. "Help yourself."

Tyler makes a face. "You've got to be kidding me. You aren't cooking it?"

"You're a werewolf," Bonnie says shrugging. "I thought you'd be all over this."

Tyler stares at it for the longest time, and then shakes his head, "No. Please cook it."

"Cook it yourself. There's the stove. Or you can use a microwave. You can add oil and onions."

"I don't know how to cook." A shadow of arrogance crosses his face. "I'm a Lockwood. We have servants."

"If you want someone to talk to about your animal problems, you better learn." Bonnie's unimpressed. "I'll show you how to turn on the stove, put on the pan and oil, but the rest, you have to do yourself. And I expect you to wash up too."

His expression falls further. But he must really want company, because soon enough, he does exactly as she says. And once the meal is polished off, the dishes sparkling clean, the two sit down and talk.

* * *

"Someone's in a good mood."

"Someone wants something." Bonnie hugs her schoolbooks tight, hurrying her pace to her car.

Damon falls in step with her. "I missed you at Caroline's party yesterday."

No surprise. She'd noticed he was busy all night. She spotted him snogging Alexis Fell near the ladies' room, shortly after entering the party. Later, she glimpsed him doing shots with a pretty Hispanic girl. Right now, he's all pink and white and sparkly-eyed, well fed and happy. Pity Elena isn't here. "Cut the crap, Damon. What do you want?"

"Answers," he says.

Hallelujah. She's reached her car. Bonnie unloads her books and bags into the trunk. "Answers about what?"

He smirks, "You're a terrible actress," he says. "You know something."

I know many things, Bonnie thinks silently. But for now, she just smiles back. "Something about what?"

A dark grimness enters his eyes. "You don't seem to care about who damaged your car. In fact, you seem a bit too eager to avoid the subject these days."

Bonnie shrugs. "You saw my car. Big, huge gauge marks. Some things are better not worth knowing."

"But you do know."

"About who did it?" Bonnie shakes her head and opens the door. "No, I don't actually. And it hasn't happened again, so I don't care."

"And that's how I know you're lying." Damon slides between her and the car door and slams the door shut with a crash. Bonnie flinches. "You suddenly turn from little Miss Do-good to someone who can't care less. That's suspicious."

"Well, you're suspicious of everyone," Bonnie snaps, ducking away from him. "According to you, I'm hopelessly in love with your brother—"

"You are," he cuts in.

Oh please. "Since you're so genius to figure that out, I'm sure you can similarly invent an excuse for my suspicious behaviour!" Bonnie manages to wriggle in her car. She slams the door and pops the lock.

Damon taps the glass.

She rolls the window down an inch. "Step back, or I'll drive over your foot," she warns.

He doesn't step back.

Bonnie glares at him. "Move!"

"I know," he says simply. "You've met Katherine. I can smell her attar of rose perfume on your jacket. You never told us how you got that back, by the way."

Bonnie looks down at herself in dismay. Stupidly, she didn't think twice before putting the jacket in the morning.

"You haven't told Elena," he continues quietly. "You weren't even planning to, were you?" When Bonnie freezes, his eyes sharpen with coldness. "Dick move," he says.

Bonnie clutches her steering wheel. "She was going to kill my dog."

"You chose your dog over your best friend?" He's incredulous.

"Don't lecture me on loyalty," Bonnie snarls. "You're hardly a great example, with Ste—"

Damon bares his teeth.

"Okay, won't rehash that," Bonnie says quickly, not wanting to provoke him. She opens her hands in an attempt at placation. "Look, I wasn't going to let anything happen to Elena. I wanted my dog to live a little longer. She's really old. I've had her since I was a baby. Knowing Katherine, she would kill Yangtze the worst way possible."

His lip curls. "Cry harder."

Bonnie gloweringly turns on the ignition. "Okay, so I suck. This round, you win. Are we done?" The car engine splutters to start.

"Who damaged your car?" Damon doesn't budge.

Bonnie stills. She promised Tyler that she wouldn't tell anyone, and she intends to keep that promise. "Not Katherine," she says abruptly, "and that's all you need to know. Are you going to move? I'm backing out."

She scrolls up the window without another word. Damon steps out of the way. Bonnie pulls out of the space smoothly.

But even after she turns on the stereo, after she lowers the car shades, she can still feel the relentless burn of Damon's suspicion.

One way or the other, he is going to find out everything.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter came out just like that, honestly. Reading reviews helped :) but I think also a severe procrastination problem (from studying) also came into play here. I seem to write better when I have exams looming. The next chapter will definitely take another week, though... _

_Thank you for everyone who gave feedback! Reviews are greatly loved. _

_And another 'this should kind of be in the story but not' note that should be mentioned: This story mightn't be heaped with romance, but it has an exclusively Bamon focus. There are definitely many other things happening in the background (for example, if this was another kind of fic, the Tonnie scene would have been much longer), but everything has been kind of condensed, because I don't want to waffle on too much. I think this chapter is kind of a turning point... we'll see. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to LJ Smith and respective copyright holders._

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**7**

* * *

Normalcy. It's something Bonnie's starting to crave. Particularly late at night when she's all by herself, insomniac in the dark, fearful of the shadows. She's charmed her house against intruders. No vampire can enter the Bennet residence now. But somehow, the fear of certain doom still presses close to her heart. After all, Yangtze has to go outside to do her doggie business, anyhow.

Yangtze has no idea her life is in danger. She looks positively wounded when Bonnie refuses to dole out a nightly doggie treat.

"I'm not feeding you after three," Bonnie says to Yangtze firmly. "No food. No water."

Yangtze looks up to Bonnie with limpid, wet eyes.

"It's for your own good," Bonnie adds guiltily. "I don't want you going out in the night time."

It was with great reluctance that Bonnie agreed to go to Caroline's sleepover tonight. Yangtze has to stay inside the house all by herself. After leaving a note on the fridge for her Dad, saying that Yangtze has eaten for the night, Bonnie gives the moping pug a final pat on the head, and heads to the garage.

Pulling up outside Caroline's house, Bonnie sees Elena's car already there. For once, happiness and contentment bubble inside Bonnie, as she envisions a cosy evening of food, girl talk and fun. But that happy feeling pops like a bubble when she spots three decidedly unfeminine faces in Caroline's living room: Matt, Stefan and Damon.

Caroline's in her bedroom, touching up on her make up.

"I had no idea this was a plus one, or two." Bonnie leans against the door, folding her arms.

Caroline wrinkles her nose. "Do you know how hard it is to separate Elena from… them? That's why I decided to bring Matt along. And don't worry!" she adds brightly. "You won't be alone!"

A sinking feeling starts in Bonnie's stomach. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing stays secret with me," Caroline declares archly. "I hear you've been spending a lot of time with Tyler recently."

Bonnie feels her cheeks warm. "It's not like that!"

Caroline blots her lips. "Not like what, exactly?"

"Caroline!"

"Or do you mean to say not yet?" Caroline's golden brows waggle with suggestion.

Bonnie flushes purple. She shakes her head wordlessly.

"Take it from someone who knows," Caroline gives her hair a last fluff before turning to Bonnie. "Tyler. Is. Hot. He's got a fantastic body, and he knows what to do with it. He also seems to like you, and that's always a plus –"

"I don't know whether to feel insulted," Bonnie tries to interrupt.

"—And I think you should know," Caroline ducks close and whispers, "He's got a tongue like a lizard."

Uncontrollably, Bonnie's jaw drops.

Caroline pulls away, smiling. "Aren't I such a good friend?"

Bonnie buries her head in her hands. "Oh, my God, Caroline. I can't believe you even went there!"

* * *

Sheriff Forbes is out of town, which is precisely why Elena and Bonnie are over in the first place. Caroline has the run of the house, and she rules with an iron fist.

Dinner is first in order for the evening. Damon and Stefan volunteer to drive out for take away. They come back with the goods, sheepishly confessing to have already eaten. The others don't blink an eye. The smell of hot pizza is way too tempting.

Caroline's plan for the night is a cocktail party. She obtained the spirits through contacts (male ones). Matt's jaw grits a little at this fact. She lines up the five liquor bottles: vodka, gin, rum, bourbon, and scotch.

Bonnie notes that Damon looks less than impressed by the offerings. He looks disparagingly at the bottle of scotch. Knowing him, he's probably used to drinking the best.

"I didn't know there'd be so many people," Caroline says apologetically, misreading Damon's expression.

"That's more than enough," Elena interrupts quickly, elbowing Damon hard.

Caroline is the perfect hostess. She mixes the drinks, albeit clumsily. The first one up is Tyler, who skulls his cup of gin and tonic in three seconds. Somehow, Bonnie finds herself drifting to Damon. Damon looks bored out of his mind.

"Why are you here anyway?" she whispers to him. "Aren't you feeling a bit old?"

"More than a bit," he corrects disdainfully.

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Why don't you leave?"

He smirks. "Have you ever seen Elena drunk?"

Bonnie shakes her head. She's never seen Elena drunk. Well, slightly tipsy, once. Elena likes to be in control.

"I have," Damon says significantly. He toasts Bonnie with his empty cup and leaves to find Elena.

Many questions pop into Bonnie's mind all at once, '_When did that happen_', first, and then '_What if something goes wrong tonight_?'

The queasy feeling doesn't go away. In fact, it gets worse once Caroline's organised a drinking game: Spin the Bottle.

"That's horrendously cliché." Bonnie affects a sneer. Her stomach, however, quivers like it's full of butterflies.

"That's the fun part about it!" Caroline's all complacent smiles. "It's a time-honoured tradition."

It is then that Bonnie realises how seriously Caroline's taking the role of matchmaker. By hook or crook, Caroline's going to shove Bonnie and Tyler together tonight, and there's nothing Bonnie can do to stop it. Nothing. Worse of all, Tyler seems to be quite acquiescent to the whole process. It certainly doesn't help that he's well on his way to being drunk – he's on his fifth drink. He's also bought 'fortifying' supplies: a gigantic bottle of whiskey.

Watching his face redden, Bonnie's struck with an unpleasant thought. He's not only kissed Caroline; he's also kissed Matt's mom, Mrs Donovan; and probably half of Mystic Fall's female population.

Bonnie's gaze slides to Damon. Well, _he's_ probably kissed a significant percentage of the world's female population. Yet she still feels a quiver of longing inside her. Damon's a bigger manwhore than Tyler ever could be, in all sense of the word. Who knows what he has done?

Why is she even thinking about this?

Bonnie grabs her drink and gulps in down in one long swallow. The contents are practically pure alcohol. Cheap bourbon. Lovely. Immediately afterwards, she hears Caroline giggle. Yes, Bonnie's drink had most definitely been spiked deliberately.

"Another?" Caroline puts on her best hostess tone. "I'm told I'm particularly good at mixing pineapple juice and rum." She flutters long eyelashes at Elena, who giggles.

_Already tipsy,_ Bonnie thinks sourly. Damon must be thrilled.

Caroline shoves a sweating glass in Bonnie's hand and plops down to the ground. "So, we're playing Spin the Bottle," she declares. "You know how the rules work. Spin the bottle, if it lands on you, you have to chose to say a truth, or do a dare, or take a long drink."

The half-empty bourbon bottle is used. Caroline spins it, and the neck points at Damon.

Caroline's obviously sharpening her mental claws. "So, Damon. Truth, dare, or a drink?"

His smile in response is fleeting. "I believe I'll drink." After raising his glass in a mock toast, he takes a long swig.

"Coward." Caroline pushes the bottle in his direction. "You spin it next, and you get to do the honours of deciding the truth or dare for whoever the bottle lands on."

By some perverse twist of fate, when Damon spins the bottle, it lands on Elena. Bonnie eyes it; gob-smacked, certain he's done something to rig it. Both Elena and Stefan are less than happy; Elena inches closer to Stefan. "I choose a dare," she says, clearly wary.

Damon's smile this time is brilliant. "I dare you to… kiss someone. A proper kiss. And," he adds, as Elena predictably turns to Stefan, "it can't be Stefan, for obvious reasons." Damon rests back on his heels, smugly certain of the outcome.

Bonnie does her own mental calculations. For all his cunning, she grudgingly gives Damon credit. He's clearly done some thinking about this (not that that should be a laudable fact). If Elena can't kiss Stefan, she certainly won't kiss Matt, because of their history. She wouldn't kiss Tyler, because he's Tyler, and also because he smells like the backroom of a bar. And Bonnie and Caroline are kind of out of the question. Which leaves Damon the only viable option.

Or not.

Because Elena's turning to Bonnie.

"Oh, no you don't," Bonnie raises her hands, in a futile attempt to ward Elena away. "You should try Caroline," she adds, as Elena inches closer. "I'm told she tastes like strawberries."

"You told her that?" Caroline smacks Matt.

"I think you're the one who told her, Caro," Matt says defensively.

"Oh," Caroline hesitates. "Yeah, maybe I did. Which makes me think, Bonnie, when was the last time you kissed someone?"

"I'm so not answering that!" Bonnie shies back as Elena nears.

Elena halts. "It's been a while?"

How did everyone's attention suddenly divert to this question? Bonnie feels her cheeks heat to scarlet. "Save the question for the bottle," she mumbles, quite mortified.

Elena sits back. "Don't worry, Bon," she says solemnly. "I won't breech your kiss chastity. I'll take a drink." Winking to Tyler, she empties the contents of her glass.

Bonnie's suddenly aware both her best friends are conspiring against her.

"You know what?" Caroline pipes up. "We should take away the 'long drink' option. Both you and Damon copped out, Elena."

"Yes," Damon says, looking more than annoyed his kiss was taken away from him. "We definitely should take out the drinking option."

"Hear, hear," Elena agrees. She leans forward to spin the bottle.

However, at that precise second, Bonnie's phone rings. More than grateful for the interruption, her hand dives into her pocket. She's surprised to see the number on her screen: it's her Dad.

"I'll take this." Bonnie presses the button. "Hello?"

"Hello, Bonnie." To Bonnie's horror, she immediately recognises the voice on the phone. It isn't her dad. It sounds like Elena. Of course, it can't be Elena, because Elena's sitting metres away. Which means it is Katherine. "You never told me how nice your father is," Katherine's voice is sugary sweet. "Why, we're standing outside your house right now, trying to look for your dog. Did you know she's gone missing?"

The phone abruptly goes dead.

Bonnie's whole body feels numb. Katherine's words may sound innocent enough, but its inner threat is unmistakeable: _Tell anyone and your father will die, just like Yangtze, who is already dead_.

"I'm stepping out, for a moment," Bonnie says. Her voice sounds strangely flat to her own ears.

Without waiting for a reply, she goes. She enters her car, turns on the ignition and starts driving almost mindlessly, only knowing she has to go home.

The streets are dark. Bonnie's head is pounding. She feels so heavy with panic, there's no room for anything else. So five minutes away from, when the sound of sirens wails in the distance, she doesn't think to run or evade. In fact, she doesn't even connect the words: 'siren' and 'police'. She doesn't realise what's happening, not until she sees the police car behind her, flashing lights indicating that she has to pull over.

It is then Bonnie realises her dilemma. She's been drinking. And she's driving. Drinking, driving… it's a crime.

In a flash, Bonnie considers her options. She can either pull over now, and delay saving her father; or maybe, just maybe, the county police might understand she's reacting to an emergency, and excuse the drunken driving, and maybe the underage drinking too. Maybe.

So, she floors it. Puts her foot down heavily on the accelerator and speeds towards home. Pulls into the driveway. The police car follows in, wailing.

Bonnie rushes out. She hammers on the door. Deputy Rogers steps out from the car. "Bonnie Bennet? You're under arrest, young lady."

"Just one moment!" She fumbles for her keys, attempting to find the right ones. Her sweaty fingers slip on the key the first time, and the second. Finally, she prods at the door with the right set.

And then she hears a bark. A male voice. The door opens to Mr Bennet, who looks belligerently at his daughter. "Bonnie, what on earth is going on?"

Katherine's right behind him, smiling. "Bonnie! Look who we found, Yangtze!" She holds the bundle over overjoyed fluff in her arms.

This excitement is too much for Bonnie. Bracing one hand against the wall, she doubles over, hoping, praying that her dizziness with go away.

"Bonnie!" Katherine-as-Elena puts on a voice of supreme concern. She rushes over to Bonnie, braces her, but in doing so, Katherine uses the farce to whisper in Bonnie's ear: "Promise me one thing, and I can make this all go away."

One thing. Bonnie doesn't think twice. She doesn't wonder what preposition Katherine has in mind. There's only one answer to such a question. "No," Bonnie says firmly. "I won't."

Still pretending to be Elena, Katherine props Bonnie up. Her hand tightens on Bonnie's shoulder for one inexorable, painful second, before letting go. Katherine's smile at Bonnie is pure sweetness. "Suit yourself," she says. "I better go," she says to Bonnie's father. "Stefan will be missing me."

Just like that, she departs, leaving Mr Bennet, Yangtze and Bonnie alone with Deputy Rogers. Bonnie can still taste vodka lemonade on her lips. Deputy Rogers is holding some contraption that looks unmistakeably like a breathalyser.

Bonnie takes a deep breath, and then another. There's no getting out of this mess. Underage drinking and drunken driven. This will go on her criminal record for sure. Goodbye pristine record as a 'good student' in Mystic Falls High School. Goodbye Ivy League colleges – not that Bonnie had much hope to begin with.

Refusing Katherine was the right thing to do; of that, Bonnie is sure. But she also knows the next few hours are going to be painful. And in the pit her stomach, she has a horrible feeling she's going to lament this decision for the rest of her life.

* * *

_A/N: This comes pretty late. Apologies. I was trying to figure out how to direct the storylines to a sharper focus. Rest assured, the next chapter should be pretty Damon-heavy, if that's any indication of how Bonnie's criminal record is going to go... _

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate your comments!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to LJ Smith and respective copyright holders._

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**8**

* * *

Deputy Rogers is a long time friend of Bonnie's father. He's also a good cop. If there was any time Bonnie's ever lamented Deputy Roger's moral rigidity and dedication to duty, it is now, as she sits in his office, waiting for the first official blemish on her permanent record.

"You were five times over the legal alcohol limit." Deputy Rogers shakes his head. "And that, young lady, is the over-21 legal alcohol limit."

"It isn't illegal to drink alcohol," Bonnie says miserably.

"It is illegal to drink and drive." Deputy Rogers types something into the computer. Bonnie feels sick; knowing the sentence he's just typed in will be the ruin of her professional life. He pins Bonnie with a look, "Where did you get the alcohol from?"

Bonnie presses her lips together tightly. "I don't know," she lies.

"You are already in great trouble," he warns.

"I really don't know."

"You would be in worse trouble if you don't tell," he says.

Bonnie shakes her head. She's watched her fair share of police dramas. She knows he doesn't have the power to make any bargains.

He shrugs. "Suit yourself." Bonnie hears an unpleasant echo of Katherine saying the exact same words.

As time drags on, the churning feeling in Bonnie's stomach worsens. Every tap she hears on the keyboard seems to directly knock on her head, like little hammers, striking hard at her brain. So when a knock sounds on the door, Bonnie almost jumps out of her seat. She turns, expecting to see her disappointed father. But instead, she sees Damon Salvatore.

Bonnie freezes, not sure what to think.

"Pete."

"Damon." Weirdly enough, Deputy Rogers is on a first-name basis with Damon. "This isn't the best time."

"So I see," Damon looks over Bonnie, who stiffens. "A drinking driving case, I hear. She's a friend of a friend," he continues. "Would it be alright if I had a word with her outside?"

Deputy Rogers nods.

Bonnie rises from her chair and follows Damon outside, to the starkly empty corridor. "What are you doing here?" she hisses.

"What are you doing here?" he fires right back at her. "What were you thinking, driving at that hour?"

"It was an emergency!"

"Your dog went missing, so I heard."

Bonnie's eyes narrow, "You were eavesdropping?"

"I heard a little," he says with a shrug. "Who was calling? I didn't recognise the voice."

He didn't recognise Katherine. Though maybe, it isn't so much a sign of his declining devotion, but a testament to the superiority of Katherine's skills in disguise. Bonnie lowers her eyes. She might detest him, but even so, she's not malicious enough to bring up Katherine. "What made you come after me?" she asks.

"When you didn't come back after an hour," he replies. "The others, they wanted to all look for you, but some of them were incapacitated."

Incapacitated, in other words, dead drunk. "All of them?"

Damon smiles wolfishly. "My brother would never leave me alone with Elena."

Which meant Elena was gone as well. Bonnie sighs, "Well, you can go back," she says, as lightly as she can. "I'm handling things fine. After Deputy Rogers releases my forms, I'm good to go."

His smile disappears, and his grey-green eyes darken. "You get arrested, and you say things are fine?"

"They are fine! People," Bonnie doesn't know why she's suddenly stumbling over her words, "people get arrested all the time!"

"Only idiots and criminals," Damon's voice drips with condensation. "You are neither."

"I'm glad about your high opinion of me," Bonnie says stiffly. "But this is my own mistake, my own burden to bear. You have nothing to do with it."

"Really? That's what you really think?"

Damon's mocking tone makes Bonnie feel humiliated. She's confused whether it is the painful, self-aware kind or just pure anger. "I do think that." The words feel like paste building blocks in her mouth. "There's no reason for you to help me. You are my best friend's boyfriend's brother. The connection is twice removed. Trust me, this time you would really have to extend yourself to help. Elena will understand if you can't, or won't. Besides we," Bonnie swallows. The pasty feeling doesn't go away. "We aren't even friends."

His grey eyes shutter. "Oh, we aren't?"

"You know we aren't," Bonnie snaps back, infuriated. But somehow, the minute the words escape her mouth, she wishes she could take it back. A distinctly unpleasant silence falls. She can't tell whether he's sardonically amused, or hurt. There's no reason for the latter, surely. Damon can't possibly be offended. Yet watching his lips twist into an ugly sneer, Bonnie's stomach bottoms out.

"Well," he drawls, his voice dangerously velvet, "I'll tell you as your best friend's boyfriend's brother, as a distant acquaintance, that your constant attempts of making a martyr of yourself fool no one. Especially not your so-called friends."

"Just because I don't want your help doesn't make me a martyr," Bonnie snarls.

"If you could help yourself, I would leave you alone!" Damon hisses back. "Tell me, Bonnie, how are you going to get yourself out of this one?"

Really, the only thing Bonnie knows is that she's meant to take her punishment, suck it up. Lost for words, she tastes the salty beginning of tears. "You don't get yourself out of crimes!" Bonnie retorts. "You repent them! That's what I'm doing now, repenting!"

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says.

Of course, he'd think so. Vampires had no moral compasses. Bonnie blinks hard, forcing back encroaching tears. "Tell me then, what about getting into a car drunk is right?"

"You didn't have a choice."

"I had a choice." Bonnie turns away from him. "I knew going out tonight was a bad idea. I really didn't want to, because of Yangtze. I knew it in my gut, I shouldn't have gone out. I didn't do enough to protect him, and now I'm repenting."

"Is your dog dead?" he asks softly.

Bonnie shakes her head. She's biting her cheek hard, because she doesn't want to cry in front of Damon Salvatore. She doesn't want to look any more pathetic.

"Was Katherine there?" he whispers.

Stunned, Bonnie's head jerks up. She just manages to bite back a revealing, '_How did you know_?'

"You're easy to read," he says. "Of course she was there. So, she still snares her victims that way. Some people really don't change." He leans back against the wall, arms folded. "She circles them, breaking them down, bit by bit. She always hits at the weakest places. She got yours, didn't she?"

Bonnie reddens with shame. Vividly, she remembers Katherine's insidious words, '_You feel very lonely'_. "She didn't get them good enough."

"Of course she didn't. You wouldn't be here right now."

Having about used the last of her patience, talking about herself, Bonnie closes her eyes and breathes deeply. "What was yours?" she asks bluntly, not really expecting him to answer, "How did she snare you?"

He stills beside her. "Katherine." He says her name hoarsely. "Katherine, she made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. The strongest, the fastest, the best, she promised that all to me. Truthfully, I was pathetic. I was dishonourably discharged from the army. I wasn't a good soldier. I wasn't a scholar, like Stefan, who shone in the academics. I had no head for managing the family's investments. I had no charm or charisma for people I did not know and like. But with Katherine, I had everything. With her by my side, I excelled at everything."

Stunned by his reply, Bonnie clumsily replies, "You mean regardless of everything, she was good for you."

"She was a selfish bitch," Damon's expression is filled with bitterness. "Eventually, I would have come to my own. I flourished without her."

"She helped you," Bonnie says. "There's no shame in admitting that."

His laughter at this is harsh, "Bonnie. Don't you understand? She helped me only because it served her, because it was easily within her power. Power and money, it buys everything in the world. It can buy anything you could ever want. Even love. The old adage is false. Power can definitely buy you love. It can buy you loyalty, if you know how to spend it."

"She couldn't buy your lasting loyalty," says Bonnie, very softly.

"That's because she no longer wants it." His words sound clipped, cold and impersonal. _Too _clipped, cold and impersonal. Damon's the master of convincing insouciance. He must have truly loved Katherine, Bonnie thinks, to be so affected.

Somehow, Bonnie's hit with the irrational need to consol him, "You don't know that yet." She adds, somewhat lamely, "Maybe she's got a greater plan that involves you. That's very possible."

"If so, I would never agree," Damon says, suddenly impassive.

His abrupt change of moods is unnerving. Bonnie stares hard at the blank wall opposite, wishing this talk was over. Facing her state-imposed punishment would be better than this, probably. "Why?" she asks, racking her brain for a way to smoothly end the conversation.

"Because, I'm better than that." And then he turns to her, his green-grey eyes aflame.

Bonnie takes a hasty step back. "I don't doubt it," she lies.

"Yes you do," he follows her, intent on something, Bonnie doesn't know. Her ears are roaring, her thoughts are scrambled, all of a sudden, she isn't sure of anything anymore.

She watches, stunned, as Damon reaches behind her, moving to re-enter Deputy Roger's office.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie struggles to stop him.

"Like it or not, Bonnie Bennet, I'm going to help you," he says.

Bonnie tries to cover the door handle. "This isn't the right way to start a friendship," she babbles. "The right way is to sit down together and discuss… our…" Not feelings, "mutual interests, over coffee or tea."

"We can do that later."

"And Deputy Rogers isn't the only person you have to deal with, you know. My dad also knows."

"I'll visit him too," Damon says simply, beginning to turn the knob.

Bonnie shakes her head furiously. "What about the gossip grapevine? It's a small town, everyone knows everyone's business."

"That doesn't start until at least six o'clock in the morning." Damon's clearly had experience with small town grapevines. "It is one o'clock now. We have five hours, easy."

One last thought occurs to Bonnie. "Vervain," she hisses into his ear. "The whole police force drinks it."

Damon's smile at this is almost luminous. "I hear their supplies have been compromised." With that said, he pushes her away firmly and opens the door.

Bonnie looks on, stupefied, as Damon Salvatore works his vampire charms.

* * *

Five hours later, at six o'clock, Bonnie has a hangover. Damon isn't helping. Apparently, his newfound moral compass and consequent friendship doesn't extend to the aftermath of alcoholic indulgence. Not that Bonnie ponders too hard about that now. With so many other worries in her mind, she's reduced to moping about how awfully her head hurts, and how pathetically relieved she is to still possess an unblemished civilian record.

Damon was right, damn him. She is grateful.

They're at the Salvatore residence. Stefan and Elena aren't home yet. Damon's drinking Scottish whisky, aged one hundred years in an oak barrel before finding its way into a crystal flagon. And then Damon's sensually shaped mouth.

Immediately following this line of thought, Bonnie mentally washes her mind out with soap. She must be still a little drunk. After all, she was five times over the legal alcohol limit.

Five! She curls into a tighter ball, burrowing further into the buttery leather of the Salvatore couch.

Sometime after nine o'clock, Bonnie locates a packet of chocolate Pop-tarts in the pantry. After eating two, she feels better enough to start a new day.

At ten o'clock, Bonnie eases out of the guest bathroom. She found a new packet of Ivory soap and used it as soap and shampoo. Which worked okay for her skin, but not so great for her hair. Her dark tresses are usually straight and smooth, but now it's a frizzy tangled mess no amount of moisturiser can subdue.

It is time for an appointment at Tina's Hairdressing salon, and new extensions. Contemplating the dent in her bank account, Bonnie feels very gloomy.

And she becomes gloomier still, seeing Damon waiting in the lounge room. He's working on a new glass of something. Not whisky. Blood. Which is totally okay to Bonnie, really. Or at least, she's valiantly trying to pretend this is a normal thing, seeing O-positive downed like orange juice. The difference really is a mere few syllables.

"Good morning," she says.

"Good morning," he responds, taking a seat next to her.

"Um, you have a good shower," Bonnie says awkwardly. "It's got really good, um, water pressure. It kind of blasted me right in the head." Her hugely frizzy hair is impossible to miss. She might as well try to excuse it.

But Damon's not interested in her hair. "I see you've found Stefan's supply of soap."

Stefan's an Ivory man. Figures. "It was in the bathroom," Bonnie says.

"Elena likes to use it," Damon says blandly.

Bonnie winces. That can only mean one thing. "I opened a new pack," she says hastily, "It was just there. And I would have liked to use something else, but I didn't want to impose."

Damon shrugs.

Bonnie sighs, exasperated. "Listen. I don't like Stefan, not in the way you like to think. So you can forget about your cosy alternate reality where you can hook up with Elena, guilt free, while I comfort Stefan. That's not going to happen."

Damon sips the blood, "I forgot. You don't take sloppy seconds."

She smiles reluctantly. "That's right. I don't take sloppy seconds."

"And you'll spend the rest of your life as a spinster," he continues, "Because everyone is a sloppy second from somebody."

The use of 'spinster' – which Bonnie's never encountered in real life – makes her crack up a little. She dampens her smile. "I'm only considering the direct cases," she says in correction, "People who have dated people I know. That rules out… most people I know."

There's a smear of blood on the corner of Damon's lip. Somehow, he's sitting closer to her, now. "Including Tyler Lockwood."

He's more observant than she realised. "Yes," Bonnie agrees. "That includes Tyler."

"Does Tyler know he's out of your consideration?"

"Tyler and I have an understanding," Bonnie says carefully. "Between the two of us. I can't tell."

"Not even a good friend?" Damon's voice is like velvet.

"I wouldn't even tell Elena," Bonnie says, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

"Not even me?" Damon's voice, if possible, lowers to become even more persuasive.

Bonnie stares at him, surprised at this response. It is at that moment she realises two things. Firstly, Damon's close, so close, in fact, his lips tickle at her ear. Secondly, his drink is mixed with some highly alcoholic something, and he's completely drunk; he's been completely drunk all this time. He's been drunk for, oh, the past twelve hours.

It's very possible he might just forget this whole night. Which may be a good thing, because he looks like he's about to kiss her. And the last thing Bonnie wants is to turn him away.

* * *

_A/N: I'm on a bit of a historical romance bent at the moment. I think it shows. So, our headstrong heroine is on the precipice of making an extremely bad (but oh so good) decision to take advantage of the inebriated hero. Will she, or won't she? And how does Katherine, and Elena and Stefan... and most of all, Tyler, have to do with this somewhat offlandish plot? Tune in next time! _

_Also, thank you very much to everyone who reviewed! I'm sorry about the lateness. Nevertheless, this story is on the verge of breaking into the three digit review mark! Yay! _


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to LJ Smith and respective copyright holders._

* * *

**S****LOPPY SECONDS**

**9**

* * *

Damon Salvatore's lips. Or Bonnie's own sanity. The moral path should have been the easy choice, but it isn't, because… it just isn't. Bonnie almost unconsciously drifts towards Damon, eyes fluttering close, lips puckering up. Her face feels hot, her palms feel hot; Damon's presence, on the other hand is icy cool. And he's smiling.

He's never smiled at her like that before. It's not his oh-so-sexy come-hither smile, or his sardonic smile, or his cruel smile, the one Bonnie's most accustomed to. There's no disgust or triumph in his face; the only other explanation for it is that he's happy. Or polite. Suddenly aware of the ache in her cheeks, Bonnie realises that she's grinning like a fool.

For someone who is dead drunk, Damon's disturbingly lucid, except there's lightness to his smile, less deliberation to his gestures.

_He should be drunk like this all the time_, Bonnie thinks, slumping in her seat with a sigh.

"Bonnie. You didn't answer my question." His voice is like liquid chocolate to her ears.

Stupid, traitorous ears. It's like they have a direct line to her heart.

"It is personal." Bonnie scoots away from him. "It is secret. You're getting nothing out of me. And really, it won't endanger anyone."

"Elena worries about you," Damon says.

Of course, it all comes back to Elena. "Well, that's sweet of her," Bonnie says, wondering what Elena could have possibly told him. "How do you know?"

He raises a brow. Bonnie gamely matches his expression. When he raises his glass to take another sip, she quells down the urge to swat his hand. "Truth is," he says, "I followed her last date with Stefan."

"That's… quite creepy."

"You should tell them that." His lips curve to a delicate sneer. "They were following you. You went to Smallwood's house."

"His name is Lockwood," Bonnie corrects witheringly.

Grey-green eyes gleam. "He looks like a Smallwood."

"Why, you know one?" Bonnie can't resist the pointed quip, and the glance down.

In response, Damon doesn't say a word. He just locks his eyes on hers and smiles. And this time, it is his sexy, glittery-eyed smile. Bonnie colours and tears her eyes away, self-consciously lifting her hand to her frizzy head. Twining a strand around her fingers, she can hear a frizzle.

She drops her hand. "So what are we going to do about Katherine?" she asks, uncomfortably aware that Katherine's now a safe topic. Because she can't talk about her Dad anymore, or Elena, or Stefan, or Caroline – and certainly not Tyler, and Damon probably doesn't follow popular media, or even he does, she's not inclined to talk about it. He probably still has a harking for Ye Olde Confederates Pop, or whatever they listened to, back in the day.

He shrugs. "We sit and wait," he says. "She hasn't shown her hand yet. We don't know exactly why she wants you."

The way he says this, Bonnie's offended. "I wouldn't underestimate me if I were you," she warns.

"I'm not underestimating you," Damon says matter-of-factly. "Katherine is targeting you for a reason. She wants a witch with ties to Salem. But why, we have no clue."

"How do you know she wants a witch with ties to Salem?"

Damon takes another sip of blood. His eyes lower, almost lazily. "We found our rat into Katherine's pack, Rick and I. Isabel's minion killed a Salem-heritage witch, and Katherine was furious. Then Rick ran a check on Salem witch legacies. There really aren't that many out there. The bloodlines are dying out."

"There's so few?" Bonnie's alarmed. While she knew about her legacy, it was never something she really pursued. Everything she learned, she learned from Grams, or her grimoires. She never really thought to go out to find others exactly like her. But now, hearing this kind of news, she feels oddly hollow. Grams had been so proud of her Salem heritage.

"There are few, but we suspect Katherine's looking for several other criterion: old enough to have power, but young enough to be a virgin."

Bonnie retains her composure – barely. "You can't be serious about that."

"I'm very serious."

"Well, I'm not." The lie blurts out of her mouth, so easily, it really could have been the truth. She's not even sure why she lied, because it's something that she'd blithely admit to in any other circumstance. It's just that Damon makes her feel like she's six, instead of sixteen. Or rather, seventeen. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth. "Anyway, we are not going to talk about this."

Damon, the bastard, bursts out laughing. "Caroline's told me different."

"Caroline has a big mouth."

"And you blush every time our conversation remotely drifts towards sex."

Bonnie opens her mouth, then closes it with a snap, choosing to keep a dignified silence.

Damon lounges back into the couch, crossing an elegant ankle over his knee. "So who was your first?" he says conversationally.

Bonnie pulls herself upright. "It is personal," she says haughtily. "A lady never kisses and tells."

"The saying is a gentleman never kisses and tells," he corrects with a snort. "I'm definitely not a gentleman. My first was my governess. She was twenty-five, pretty as a milkmaid, and so busty, almost everything she wore looked obscene."

Bonnie has heard her share of shockingly blasé statements from her friends. That one, however, may have just taken the cake. She fixates her eyes on his almost-empty cup, wondering how their conversation had come down to this. "I'm surprised your father hired her," she murmurs finally. The words don't come out judge-y, at all.

"My father was an honourable. Remarkably like Stefan. I don't think he ever understood her charms. While I did, quite profoundly." Damon drains his cup dry.

He stands up to get another one, but Bonnie snatches the cup from his hand. "You're drunk." She speaks firmly.

"Not drunk enough." He looks directly into her eyes, his gaze vividly green-grey.

Bonnie looks away first. "You know, you'll regret it when you wake up, realising that you've told me all these personal stories."

His head cocks, considering the thought. "I don't think I will. I rarely regret a thing. Regrets are a waste of time. Most things past, you can't change."

"You must regret some things," Bonnie says. Because she certainly has many regrets. Never making an effort to know Grams before, until it was too late. Being a frequent cryer when she was a kid – something she wonders whether her crying annoyed her parents so much, they gratefully divorced. Letting her friendships with Elena and Caroline drift apart – sometimes, she knows she could have handled things better. Maybe organised some more group events, make an effort to push Elena and Caroline together. She should have never crushed so hard on Matt – God knows that went nowhere…

"You know what, I do." Bonnie's surprised by his answer. Then she glances up, to find him staring at her hair. Her massively frizzy hair. She should have changed her extensions after that dip in the lake…

"I used to know a watch. She came by way of Salem, just like you. I used her to help me find Katherine. She fell in love with me."

The way he states this outright, uncaringly; Bonnie cringes for the faceless, nameless girl.

"Knowing I loved Katherine, she did everything she could to look like her. She curled her hair – like you do, sometimes –" Bonnie doesn't try to correct this assumption. "When she found out that Katherine spoke Italian and French, she immediately took up lessons in those languages. After I told her Katherine adored classic novels, she began to read one a day. Every detail I told her about Katherine, she would emulate it, exactly. And then, she begged me to turn her into a vampire."

"Did you?"

"No."

Bonnie's response is silence.

"When I got tired of her, I abandoned her. And then one day, our paths crossed again. I needed some advice," Damon adds, when Bonnie raises a cynical brow. "It was years later, decades later. She was an entirely different person."

Already, the story has left a bitter taste of disgust and dread in Bonnie's mouth. "What, did you expect she wouldn't change, like you?"

"I didn't expect her to change so much. Back when I knew her, she was always covered in frills and frippery, much like Katherine. But when I next saw her, all her past pretences were stripped away. She was dressed much like you are now –" Bonnie's in last night's party clothes, skinny jeans, a fitted top – "Her face was bare, and her hair was just like yours. She was confident in herself, and I never found her more beautiful."

As he's drawing lines between beauty and Bonnie, she supposes she should be flattered, but this story clearly doesn't have a happy end. "What happened?"

"She tried to kill me. So I killed her."

Bonnie closes her eyes, for a moment. "And you regret killing her." Somehow, her voice is level.

"I regret never having known her. I was too blinded by my love for Katherine."

"Surely–" Temporary insanity hits Bonnie. She'd never have dared to ask the question otherwise. "You don't regret loving Katherine, do you?"

"No." His voice is faint, almost inaudible. "I regret never being able to let go. I still can't. It's my purpose for living."

"Being in love with her?" Something in Bonnie's heart twists painfully.

"I want to destroy her." His words are strong, vehement.

Bonnie stares down at her hands. "Then what happens afterwards?"

"Afterwards? After I stake her in her ice cold heart?" he laughs bitterly. "I don't know."

"What about Elena?" Bonnie doesn't know what inside her pushes the question forward. Some sadistic, evil side to her, no doubt.

A shadow of genuine amusement returns to Damon's face. "I'm not drunk enough to answer that," he says.

"I won't tell her."

"Of course you won't." Damon pauses. An expression akin to pity passes over his face. Bonnie stares at him, throat tight, confused. "I won't tell you," he says quietly.

In that horrible moment, she realises he _knows_. Damon Salvatore is centuries old. He can read people like books, and Bonnie's as transparent as waxed paper. _He knows she likes him. That way._ She wonders how long he's been aware of her irrational crush on him. She wonders what he really thinks. No wonder why he's always acts so vaguely disgusted…

"Don't," he whispers, almost as if he can read her thoughts. "Don't cry. It isn't your fault. God knows if I had any sense, I'd return your feelings. But I don't."

Bonnie swallows hard. She feels completely humiliated, like she's betrayed a secret side of herself. Surely, this couldn't have happened, had she thought better, thought clearer, hadn't been here now, had just left the room earlier…

There's no way to salvage her pride. There's no way she can justify this to herself. Because she doesn't really like him – like Damon Salvatore – in a real, romantic, serious way. Not really. Sure, she might admire the colour of his eyes, the muscle tone of his chest, and the curve of his cheek, but she doesn't like him, let alone loved him.

But her heart is breaking.

She stands up. Without another word, without another glance, she leaves the house. Her car is still in police possession. Damon had driven here. No matter. She could walk home. It's only three miles, easy peasy by foot.

Damon won't bring up this subject again, ever. Maybe he'll be too drunk to even remember. Even if not, it doesn't matter. It can't matter, because it is impossible.

Three miles. The distance stretches before her, the steps and minutes compressing in her mind like folded ribbon. Three miles should take an hour, maybe. Maybe more, if there's incline, or if she stops, if she stops to cry. Regardless, by the time she gets home, this thought will be gone from her memory, blocked for perpetuity.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: This chapter was really hard to write – I wasn't sure whether I wanted to take the story this far. After trying to revise it, I realised there wasn't really much else it could go. Damon and Bonnie's hidden conflict had to come to head. _

_[And the title won't go centre. :( I tried fixing it, but the thing won't work. I tried editing three times!]_

_I hope the wait was worth it. My RL schedule is starting to get really hectic, but I'll try to squeeze some fanfic in when I have time. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, thank you for the feedback! I really do look on them as inspiration! _


	10. Chapter 10

_DISCLAIMER: The respective copyrights belong to LJ Smith and other relevant title holders. _

_WARNING: Some spoilers as to recent episodes. Will address how continuity will work later. _

* * *

**SLOPPY SECONDS**

**10**

* * *

On Sunday morning, Elena comes by bearing a box of donuts. Bonnie has just stumbled out of the bathroom, the remnants of toothpaste a minty stain above her lip.

"I brought your favourite!" Elena says in a singsong voice. "Triple chocolate glazed with blueberry jelly in the middle. Hot too!" And then she smiles so sweetly; alarm bells go off in Bonnie's head.

Elena has a beautiful smile, there's no doubt about that. Bonnie's seen boys quiver in their shoes at a mere glimpse of Elena's glossy lips curving, the beginnings of the indentation of a dimple. But even such a smile has no comparison to this – a devastating combination of playfulness, promise and deliberation.

Katherine. Again. Bonnie wonders whether she should be feeling flattered about receiving so much attention from the Big Bad vampire.

Her face must have been like a book, because Katherine's beatific smile takes a cattish edge. "Why, you aren't going to invite me in?"

"No," Bonnie says abruptly.

Katherine looks her over smiling, up and down, and then opens up the donut box. Steam rises, carrying the distinctive smells of chocolate, blueberry and blood. With all the leisure in the world, she lifts a donut to her mouth and takes a bite. Blood dribbles out.

"Recognise this?"

It takes a moment for Bonnie to realise Katherine's not referring to the donut, but the necklace wrapped as a makeshift bracelet around her risk. The pendant has been sealed with sticky tape.

It is Caroline's necklace, the one Elena gave to Caroline, with the vervain.

Seeing the terrified comprehension dawn on Bonnie's face, Katherine's smile widens. "You see, I have a proposition for you, Bonnie. Say you will accept, because if you don't, I have a friend who is with your friend Caroline right now. If I don't call him within say," she checks her watch, "two minutes, he will snap her neck."

The words hit Bonnie hard. She watches numbly as Katherine finishes off the bloodied donut, licking the tips of her tapered fingers. A perfect dark brow arches. "So?"

"What is the proposition?" Bonnie's voice cracks.

"Who cares? All that matters is that you must swear upon the honour of your family, upon your blood, that you will do any task I command of you."

"Just one task."

"One task."

"With no parts. It will be one spell, and one spell only."

"You are hardly in the position to bargain," Katherine says softly. "Step outside your door, Bonnie."

She does so. "I want to make sure I will only be obligated to what I promise." Despite her fear, she forces herself to stand upright, not like she's ready to duck back to the safety of her house at any minute. "No more. I will swear then, on my family's honour and my own blood –" she stifles a gasp when Katherine calmly pulls a knife from a hiding place in her sleeve and slashes Bonnie's skin, "and my own blood, to serve you in one task, consisting of one spell only."

She's not sure what numbs her to all sense when Katherine takes out a vial and catches the dribbling blood. Only when the vial is almost full to the brim, Bonnie remembers the old sayings about witch blood and its power.

Instinctively, she moves to dislodge it at once, but Katherine blocks her.

"That's not part of our deal," Bonnie hisses.

"Time is ticking." Katherine says, not moving her hand. "Any minute, Lucas may lose his patience."

"Witches' blood is only powerful when it is willing taken," Bonnie says, thinking fast. "I will give you the rest willingly, if you call off your man right now. You know, I haven't even heard evidence that he has Caroline."

Warily, Katherine pulls out her phone and puts in the number. Ringing through, she murmurs a few words of French and then passes the phone to Bonnie.

"Caroline?" Hearing the panicked, sobbing gasps over the phone, Bonnie immediately knows the situation is true. "Caroline? Where are you? What happened?"

"Right outside my house … before I could even go in…" Caroline's voice is hysterical. "Bonnie, what's happening? What do they want?"

"I'll explain later," Bonnie begins to say, but then Katherine snatches the phone back.

"The blood," she hisses. Her face has started to take on the traceries of vampirism. "Now."

A crazy idea comes to Bonnie. She sneaks a glance around. Her porch is made of stone. The outside of the house is brick. Nothing that could catch fire…

Concentrating, in an instant, Katherine's alight. Her jacket must be made of polyester, Bonnie thinks absently, observing the way it flames up.

"You bitch," Katherine breathes.

Reacting at once, Bonnie snatches the phone out of her hand. "Lucas?" she snaps out. "Are you there? Tu comprend anglais?" She tries for a garbled attempt at French. At least, she thinks that's French for 'do you understand English'. Well, linguistics had never been her strong suit.

"Yes." The man's voice is gravel.

"Your mistress is on fire. She'll turn to ashes in any minute. If you don't let go of my friend now, I'll let Katherine burn, and then I'll hunt you down and burn you to ashes too. Do you understand? Give Caroline the phone."

"Bonnie?" Caroline's voice crackles onto the receiver almost immediately. "He's let me go! What's happening?"

"Caroline, RUN to your house. Go in. Lock the door, and hurry."

"I'm running!"

Katherine's had the sense to pull off her jacket. She's now trying to simultaneously pat down the flames and go after Bonnie, but the fire is still the more pressing issue. Bonnie's also is starting to feel queasy. Whatever vampires are made from – the same stuff as humans on the outside, maybe – it isn't flammable. The flames burning Katherine are entirely magical, and the magic is starting to take a toll on Bonnie.

"Are you inside?"

"… the k-keys won't fit."

"Hurry." Bonnie's backing to the door herself. "Are you inside?"

"No! Don't rush me!"

"Please, Caroline…"

Caroline screams. From across the receiver, there's a sound of a metallic clank. "He's got hold of me!"

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

Katherine's got the flames under control. She turns towards Bonnie, vengeance in her eyes.

"I'm in! He can't get in! Bonnie! I'm safe!"

Relieved to hear the words, Bonnie stumbles into her house, stands within the threshold, hand braced against the doorframe. She's panting like she's won a marathon.

Katherine, who has rushed forward, recoils away from the magic that stops her from entering.

"Bonnie," Caroline's voice in the receiver is tinny. "You better explain everything to me later."

"I will. Don't go out until I call you later, okay?"

Bonnie hangs up and looks towards the raging vampire outside her door. Katherine's completely turned, her face shot with bulging veins, her eyes swollen and red. "You will pay for this," she hisses.

Breathless, Bonnie can only dismiss the threat with an offhand gesture.

Then Katherine's gaze drops to the porch, to the debris left of their fight. Her vial is still on the ground, whole and lolling. There are still a few good inches of blood in there. Bonnie resists the urge to duck back out and rescue it.

Turning back to a 'human', Katherine picks up the vial, regarding it with something akin to curiosity. In that moment, she almost looks to be in deep thought. Then she smiles, "This may be enough after all."

"Enough for what?" Bonnie's stunned response squeaks through.

Katherine gives Bonnie a long, lingering look… and then disappears.

* * *

Of course, Bonnie inevitably has to tell Elena and Stefan. Unfortunately anything that gets told to Elena and Stefan of this nature inevitably ends up with Damon. And so Bonnie has her first conversation with Damon since that unfortunate morning after, whose events will not be mentioned.

"Blood of a Salem witch," Damon nurses a glass of brandy in his hand. "What is that sneaky bitch up to?"

In an attempt to avoid directly addressing Damon, Bonnie turns to Elena for her musing brainstorm. "Blood is used to quicken most spells, but usually on a drop or two is needed. Spells that use blood in larger quantities usually work to kill something, or bring something to life."

"Katherine, being Katherine, probably has a long list of people she wants to kill," Stefan says.

"You being on the top," Damon drawls. "How did she put it again? If she can't kiss you, she'll kill you, because if she can't have you, no one else should?"

He's clearly referencing something Bonnie's completely unaware of. Sneaking a glance at Elena's worried expression, it is something Elena's aware of too.

But it is none of Bonnie's business. Fixedly, quelling her curiosity, she focuses on the task at hand. "What if she's trying to bring something back to life?"

"Ah, you don't know Katherine." Damon turns his vengeful attention towards Bonnie, a vicious smile on his lips. "Katherine likes being a destroyer. That's her thing. Destruction."

"She sounds perfect for you." The bitter retort rises to Bonnie's lips before she can force it down.

"But she doesn't want me," Damon snarls, equally as bitter.

Quite the contrary from his complete indifference days ago, Bonnie notes with some surprise. She returns fixing her gaze towards the interesting detail on Elena's jacket shoulder. So something of the angstily romantic nature has definitely happened, in respect to Katherine. And it is still none of her business.

"You have to put that aside," Elena says to Damon, her voice pitched to soothing. "Caroline almost died today."

"God damn it, I don't care." Damon slams his glass down on the mahogany table and stalks across to the fireplace.

"What if," Bonnie desperately tries to revert the conversation back to where it was originally, about Katherine and her blood, "what if Katherine plans do bring something back to life that will help her destroy even more things?"

Damon's brooding over the flames. Stefan and Elena are looking concerned. Bonnie's starting to doubt whether they even heard her speak, then Damon turns, his eyes dark, the light of fury gone. "You might be right," he says mutedly. "I think I know who she's trying to bring back."

"Who?" Bonnie asks, fearing the worst.

Her fear increases as Damon picks up his abandoned brandy glass, downs it and pours himself another. He starts to laugh, small chuckles at first that increase to the point where his shoulders shake with mirth.

And then he throws the full glass into the flames. As the glass shatters, Stefan and Elena jump up, worry etched over their faces. Bonnie slumps onto the couch, her head in her hands.

"She's going to bring back Emily. Your grandmother so many times removed." Damon's reverted to emotionless, his voice flat and smooth. He turns to Stefan with those same, deadened eyes. "She really is after your heart, brother."

* * *

_A/N: I really wanted to finish this fic off before season 2 started, but of course, inevitably, after season 2 started, the muse would be leaping again. I'm sorry, I really am the kind of writer who writes on impulse. Originally, the person who was supposed to be resuscitated was Klaus (Katherine's maker from the books), and I'd gotten some of this chapter written up, but it was just terribly flat..._

_And then season 2 came along, and voila. New directions! I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't what happened in episodes 1 and 2! Nothing in my mind could match the awesome! _

_Because this story is AU, it won't be following the new episodes precisely, but I will be taking certain bits from them from time to time, like the reason why Katherine came to Mystic Falls. Honestly, I still don't know why. I'm positive that Katherine isn't in love with Stefan in the show, and there's a marvellous plot twist along the way... _

_Anyway, thank you for stick to this story, and thank you to everyone who left reviews for the last chapter! _


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